


Fifty Shades of RED

by MisterStalker, tiny_freakin_head



Series: 50 Shades of RED [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal, Anal Toy, Cage, Dark fic, Electrical Play, Fucking Machine, Impact Play, Interrogation, Kidnapping, M/M, Spanking, Torture, Violet Wand, Voyeurism, dub con, slow burn enemies to lovers, spreader bar, stress position
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2020-09-23 14:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 118,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20341660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterStalker/pseuds/MisterStalker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_freakin_head/pseuds/tiny_freakin_head
Summary: The Administrator hired the Spy because she knew the Frenchman was good. She hired the Texan for breaking the spy because she hoped he was better. He was better. Much better.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gravel Wars are over after Greyman seizes the assets of his brothers. But work is far from over for the Blu Engineer tasked with finding his elite mercenaries. A decade long feud offers satisfying closure when he is given the enemy Spy to break for information.

### Prologue

A very standard hot and dry day in the Gravel Pit came to an end. Mercenaries who looked forward to the end of the working day were straying from the base in search of entertainment. Mercenaries who were never off duty were leaving the battlefield for their own personal projects.

Engineer retired to his workshop. It was a tidy area provided by his employers to repair and design his contraptions. He enjoyed a great amount of freedom here and could truly relax with his favourite company: his machines.

No matter how people bothered him in battle, no one bothered him here. Not even the enemy RED Spy dared to sneak into his garage. Engineer never considered to ask about it. Rather, he appreciated that at least one spy had survival instincts.

The stout Texan was easing into a seat with a pencil in hand and blueprints in front of him but was interrupted by the video communication on his desk. Few people had the ability to contact Engineer directly, bypassing the phone in the common area or the speakers that announced throughout every room of the building.

It was the Administrator herself, but she was not in her office in her large leather chair. And her voice was not so tired and annoyed as usual. "Mr. Conagher, are you there?" she asked urgently. "This matter is an emergency!"  
  
Engineer put down his pencil and pushed his blueprints away, shifting the small screen so that it was facing him in his chair. The Administrator had never called him from out of her office before, nor had she ever said anything was an emergency, even in situations that Engineer thought ought to have been labelled emergencies. He'd never seen her look so out of sorts. She almost looked frantic.  
  
"I'm here, ma'am, what can I do for you?" Though he’d never liked the woman, she was useful in getting him the things he needed to keep building and creating. In return for her keeping him set up and in a place to practice his skills, he was happy to help her with the life-prolonging services he provided.  
  
The Administrator did not waste time. "Grey Mann killed Blutarch and Redmond and is disbanding their teams. Someone from TFI is coming to inform everyone of their termination; the civilians will figure it out soon." 

Engineer frowned as she told him the immediate details. He'd known, of course, that this could not last forever. This kind of work never did.

The Team Fortress mercenaries were wanted by the Teufort law enforcement since day one. The only thing that stopped the police was the protection of Mann Co. The smart choice was to leave town. And quickly.  
  
"I'm hiring you. Your work as an engineer is too important to lose during this critical moment." She said it like she assumed he would work for her, simply due to her need. But now was no time to assume she had someone in her pocket if they were unwilling. So she asked, to be sure, "Will you work for me, personally, Mr. Conagher?"  
  
"Of course, ma'am," he agreed. "I'll pack up my truck and move. Where am I going?" He assumed that she would have everything planned out to the last detail. She always had before. He was already organizing all his things in his mind, putting things into categories: needed to bring with him, could leave behind, must destroy before leaving. It wouldn't take him long to get out.  
  
"I’m moving you to a solitary bunker farther out in the desert… There's more," she continued. "I need you to interrogate a person of interest for me. I'm aware your family has a talent for that art." She watched him closely.

The Conagher family was well known for their engineering, by every machine they produced with the brand ‘_If it don’t leave a mark, it ain’t a Conagher._’ But, much more privately, they handled delicate interrogations.

Engineer nodded slowly, and firmly.

"Grey Mann is dismissing the mercenaries because he has his own team. I'm certain that team is my own retired Classic team. Please, tell me you’ve made contact with your father,” the Administrator implored.

Although he hadn’t seen his father in years and was certainly not on friendly terms with the man, he disliked the idea of torturing him for information and doubted any fortune could compensate him. Luckily, he could answer the woman honestly: “Sorry ma’am, can’t help you there.”

The woman sighed and massaged her forehead with skeletal fingers. “Plan B, then. I found another connection to their team. The RED Spy. My records indicate that he was the apprentice of the Classic Spy."

If she wanted him to interrogate the man who had been destroying his machines and stabbing him in the back all these years, then she might as well offer him a fantasy coming to life. The Texan maintained a business-like demeanor, even though he was tempted to cheer. “Any information you're looking for in particular, ma’am?”

"I want you to find the Classic team, and what they’re doing, by any means," She ordered.  
  
He didn't hesitate. "I know how to handle spies, ma'am. I'll get what you need."  
  
"I'm depending on you, Mr. Conagher." Her voice was dry and serious but it was the most human she’d ever sounded before. Whatever was happening to TFI made her vulnerable. 

Engineer didn't need to know her well to hear that. He had a skill for picking out when someone was breaking. 

"I'll send you the coordinates for your new base." She finished and abruptly ended the call.  
  
Dell began to pack up his things. Once the truck was full, and he had the coordinates, he disassembled to raw parts what he couldn't take with him.

He didn't want to leave anything behind for people who might consider looking for him. If no one had time to look for a body after the news was out, they would assume he was dead. That would suit him just fine.

He had one final task before leaving. A challenging task. Sabotage was not his strong suit. But confident men were easy targets…

*

  
  
Across the gravel pit and a day later, Spy was almost relieved when Miss Pauling presented the news that the team was disbanded. He was free from this assignment.

To be fair, this was not the worst assignment the rogue ever had. The results of much harder business were marked in scars and tattoos covering his body. Those jobs didn't have the benefits of the Medic's science-defying gun.

But he’d worked here, in this vast American dust bowl, for over a decade now. That, on its own, was the longest assignment he ever took. On top of that, everyday was painfully the same: the BLU Engineer would make a defensive line of sentries, the BLU Sniper would find a nest to pick off the approaching REDs, the BLU Medic would prepare his Heavy, and the afore-mentioned Heavy would make himself an impenetrable wall; then the RED gates opened, and Spy cut his way through his prime BLU targets, in this order:Shoot BLU Engineer from a careful distance with his Ambassador. Disguise as BLU Engineer to destroy the sentries and teleporters. Cloak and backstab the BLU Sniper. Cloak and wait for an exhausted Heavy missing the teleporters. Backstab the Medic, and savour the fear and betrayal on Heavy’s face as he died next.

Repeat.

Spy loved the thrill of danger, and walking alongside the enemy. He loved to second-guess the meaning behind every glance turned his way. As strange as it was, he sometimes considered life sweeter with a bit of pain and fear included. But both were absent here.

After longer than a decade of being immune to death, there was nothing to fear.

Spy lingered on his base only to make contact with his mentor, the oldest and most trusted connection he had for espionage work. Quiet calls in the night arranged some simple support work for his mentor in Australia.

It wasn't any more exciting than his work on the RED base. But simply hearing the voice of his respected mentor telling him to come to him was more exciting than anything in the last year.

The mercenary put a minimal amount of necessities into his valise and folded his coat over the back of the passenger seat. The breeze through the open windows of his car almost let him enjoy the dry desert air. Almost.  
  
A 1968 Dodge Charger, American Sport Car, cherry red, sped down the dusty road to the city, to an air strip where a jet would take Spy to his mentor. When the RED and BLU bases were only a mirage in the distance, and Teufort was too far away to see, the radio transmission ended with a sharp crackle.

Spy looked to the radio in annoyance and saw that the hands on the car’s clock were no longer turning either. He glanced at the road to be sure his path was clear and then leaned down to tap the radio, and the face of the clock.

He knew he shouldn't worry about such a trivial matter. Some quiet hours on the open road was not the worst way to end this assignment. But his curiosity overwhelmed him and he stopped the car to disengage the radio and turn it over in his hands.

Spy didn't know much about electronics, but he expected to find a loose wire to explain the disconnection. Disappointed, he slid the radio into the cavity of the dashboard and turned the keys for the engine.

There was no response. The engine didn't rumble or wheeze. The car simply didn't respond at all. In total disbelief, the Spy turned the keys several more times only to find the same silence.

At first he was confused but quickly he became angry. It must be fate that, when he was so close to getting away, he would be stranded in the middle of the desert.

Spy wasn't sure where to start to fix the car. Spy cars were unusual and delicate things full of unique gadgets. But his only other choice was to attempt to walk back to the base and make a phone call, or walk several miles still to Teufort. He would miss his jet either way.

*

Engineer gave the spy a head start down the empty road, one half hour. He had carefully oriented his vehicle so that when he joined Spy down this road, it would appear he was coming from the BLU base

He'd left plenty of his tools in his truck, so it would appear as though he had packed just now to leave base, the same as Spy. Much less like he was here to abduct an enemy.  
  
Engineer was prepared to go as far as Teufort till he found where the RED Spy's fancy little car broke down. But he was pleased to find Spy barely made it past the modified sentry, which blasted a powerful electromagnetic pulse draining all battery sources in its path. It effectively turned Spy's gadgets into shiny bricks.

Spy leaned against his car and nervously chewed on a cigarette while he watched the truck approach. When he was certain he was close enough to be seen, he waved a hand to hail the driver.

The sight of the Engineer in the driver's seat made Spy bite his cigarette with growing anxiousness. Spy considered himself a man with many enemies, but the top of that list was definitely this man. His recent conversations with his mentor reminded him of the directions to never trust the Engineer. But currently, Spy couldn't see any other option.

And it seemed Engineer might not be interested in helping anyway. The truck drove a few metres down the road before stopping, reluctant to give a ride to an enemy. 

Spy knew it would be humiliating to ask this man for help. But the old blue truck stopped, and remained stopped. Spy stood up from his sleek red car and prepared himself for some mockery. He stopped at the window and acknowledged the enemy, "Engineer."  
  
Engineer sighed. “Spy... You might as well get in, it’s a long walk otherwise. And if we’re goin’ to the same place anyway...” He said it as though resigned to an awkward ride through the desert with his enemy. 

Spy couldn’t blame him. After a decade of fighting one another, this would be the most time they ever spent together.

They were not officially enemies any more, as far as the spy was aware. But something seemed off, nonetheless. Something was somehow, in some way, immediately dangerous.  
  
Even with his instincts on high alert, he never saw the trap coming and within moments the stun gun Engineer had rigged into his seat had rendered him unconscious.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This book was started at this time last year. Incredible! We put our heads together to write some kinky BDSM Spy/Engineer stuff. You wouldn't believe some of the changes that happened just while we started the premise. TinyFreakinHead suggested "What if Spy isn't trying to steal intelligence again, what if Spy has information Engineer wants from him?" and then "What if Spy had a real, serious connection to the Classic Team, rather than Engineer's professional relationship with Blutarch?"  
Truly, some of the most intriguing, exciting plot points of this story are the imagination of TinyFreakinHead.  
Before we realised it, our plan to write some kink became a whole, deep, breathful story of its own! Of course, this is not the first time in history. So we acknowledged our forefather, the Twilight Kink Fic, 50 Shades of Grey. We hope you enjoy the terrible pun that left us in tears, 50 Shades of RED, and hope that you enjoy the kink also.
> 
> -Mister Stalker


	2. Disarming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Engineer disarms the Spy

_ Ribbons of cigarette smoke swayed through the light of a projector. The only source of light in a dark, cold, cement room. _

_ Two spies spoke over each image projected onto the wall. The younger of the two wore a tailored suit that emphasized the width of his shoulders and his thin tapered waistline. The older spy wore a jumpsuit with a harness that allowed gravity-free acrobatics along the steep faces of buildings. _

_ There was a comfortable familiarity between these two. The mentor had watched for years as his protege grew and his unblemished pink body became scarred and marked under the hardship of their shared career. The younger spy let his mentor observe the changes the years made in him, feeling only pride to see the hardened killer he was shaped into under his mentor’s touch. _

_ Usually, the younger spy only needed a simple dossier to effectively do a job. But Mann Co. was a complicated assignment and his mentor knew it. _

_ The projector snapped as it arranged a new image: a neat, and generously sized home on a vast open ranch. Oil rigs pumped in the distance. Cows grazed near a fence. _

_ “This is the Conagher ranch,” the older Spy stated, “the home of the late Radigan Conagher. His son took his place as a BLU Engineer. And, considering the younger team assembling now, Radigan's grandson will become a BLU Engineer also.” _

_ The projector snapped again to show the youngest Conagher engineer. Unlike the other mercenary photos, captured in secret without the subject’s awareness, this man was aware of the camera. _

_ This Engineer had strong, broad shoulders, slouched casually by the way he leaned on a fence. His simple work shirt didn't flatter his figure, but just looking at his thick forearms and large hands, one knew he was very strong. _

_ One hand pinched the front of his felt cowboy hat, tilting it so that his eyes were barely visible. He had a close shave, with only the slightest shadow from stubble on his defined cheeks and broad jaw. He had a very serious smile. _

_ The younger spy was unsettled under the hard stare of the man illuminated on the wall. “What should I know about him?” he asked with his thick French accent. _

_ “Stay away from him. I'm showing him to you so you will recognise him and not get involved,” The older man explained. His own accent was not subtle but it was hard to identify. _

_ The Frenchman scoffed, “Oh please. Did you promise his father to keep his little boy safe?” _

_ The older spy corrected him with a sharp tone, “Don’t waste my time with jokes.” _

_ A shiver crawled through the younger man’s shoulders from the tone of his mentor. He hated to be admonished, and yet, somehow, he loved to feel that firm and inflexible leadership. His own tone changed to something more respectful now. “I can kill a man like this easily. He wouldn't even see me coming.” He looked back at his mentor, but the space behind the projector was empty now. _

_ A tight grip closed around his opposite shoulder and his head turned quickly to look up at the older spy. _

_ His mentor crouched down slowly, bringing their faces closer together as he spoke. “Consider yourself lucky that the Conagher family likes engineering as much as they do. Because when they are not engineering sentries and dispensers, they are breaking spies.” _

  


*

Spy woke up completely alone in a dark, still room. The stretching along his shoulders and arms was a familiar but unwelcome feeling and he immediately knew he was captured with his arms drawn up over his head in ropes. The details of his capture would come more slowly through a fog.  
  
Spy carefully found solid ground under his feet and stood up, giving the smallest amount of relief to his stretched shoulders. He shook his head to shake away the dizziness and the sack he imagined was over his head. He found there was no sack on his head, but rather, he was in total darkness.  
  
He began twisting his numbed hands to regain some feeling in his pinched extremities before he could even begin imagining his escape.  
  
Engineer watched Spy through a screen in the comfort of his desk. The camera picked up more light than the human eye and he could clearly watch Spy starting to struggle like a fish on a line. He sipped a dark coffee and simply watched.

He liked to time his entry with spies for a brief window—after they assessed their situation and started to think of escape, but before they realised that escape was impossible. 

After a minute of waiting, he went down the steps and turned on a blinding light, focused on Spy.

Spy's head snapped to the side as if the bright light was a punch. He blinked several times quickly to try to overcome the blinding glowing spots in his vision. He tugged at his bound hands in a failed gesture to shield his face with his palms. “_Bonjour_. Or is it _ bonsoir?” _

He turned his head downward to avoid the brightness and saw a short table with a tray of all the shiny metal tools and odd shapes meant to torment him. 

Engineer stood silently and waited for him to take it in.

A little bit of the humour left his face but he refused to show his fear. His numb fingers curled, tucking his nails into his palm protectively. “Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” the Frenchman purred.  
  
Engineer stepped into the light with a low chuckle. “Oh, we’ve met before,” he told him.

The memory of his moments before capture emerged from the fog. Spy tested the ropes again, and now was aware of the effective nature of the knots.

This was an unlucky situation to find himself in. Spy had spent the last decade bothering and backstabbing his current captor, always dancing just out of the man’s grasp. Spy was regretting that he’d ignored his mentor’s words. He was nearly regretting the past decade of rivalry with this man, as he was sure he would pay dearly for it now.

Spy didn't expect mercy, but he would try for it. He wore a very friendly expression suddenly as he squinted to meet the Texan’s eyes. "Engineer, we don't need to be enemies. Our uniforms are nothing more than garish colours now. We could even be friends.”  
  
Engineer merely walked around Spy, looking over him and the ropes.

Spy turned to follow Engineer but the twisting ropes squeezed his hands and made pain lance through the nerves. He turned frontways and had little choice but to accept the enemy circling around him. “I apologise, sincerely, for every wrong I committed against you in the Gravel Pit. It was nothing personal. My assignment was to stop you.” 

He had the good sense not to provoke his captor, but his apologies did not sound very sincere to Engineer.

Once his captor was satisfied everything was in order, Engineer stood in front of Spy, taking his jaw in his broad, rough hand. “This ain’t about our old relationship. This is a clean slate for you and me. And you can find out what I’m like when I ain’t restricted by Team Fortress’s rules.” He released Spy’s face, patting his cheek instead.  
  
Spy flinched under the hard pats. He rolled Engineer’s words around in his mind and filtered them for clues. If he could trust his captor’s words, the man wasn’t interested in revenge or revisiting much from their past relationship. His mentor’s warning returned and he felt very cold as he considered that Engineer might have brought him here because, _ ‘When Conaghers aren’t engineering, they’re breaking spies.'_

The Frenchman swallowed and suggested amicably, “Of course. Let’s get to know each other. Perhaps you can even untie me, if I am beginning with a clean slate."  
  
Engineer laughed. “Boy, I ain’t that dumb.” He went to one of his tables, picking up something almost innocuous. A pair of scissors. He stepped close to Spy again, and asked calmly, “What weapons do you have on you?”  
  
Spy scoffed and answered without hesitation, "None." He rolled his shoulders in a failed attempt to gesture to his body. "My coat and holster are not on me, you see."  
  
The scissors pointed towards him and Spy jerked hard to avoid the tool, but there was nowhere to go. Engineer began to cut up one of Spy’s sleeves, exposing his bare arm. “Not the right answer.” The cold metal glided along his skin and made his hairs stand up.

Engineer made him nervous, nervous enough to be honest next. "The ambassador revolver and the balisong are in my coat! Check if you must, they aren't on me!" The statement was honest, but evaded Engineer's question intentionally. Spy had several other weapons that were always on his body.

Nonetheless, his captor saw fit to be gentler with him to show him the rules. Lying had consequences. Half-truths were permitted for now, only as the spy was being effectively broken in for a proper questioning.  
  
Engineer stopped, then gave Spy a few easier questions. “What is your class name?”

The spy looked at him very suspiciously. Engineer must know the answer, it was common knowledge. There was no reason to lie, and nothing to gain from trying when Engineer had all the power here. “Spy…” he very reluctantly stated.

“Who hired you?”

“The Administrator.” Spy was scowling suspiciously still. He hated what Engineer was doing. He hated answering him, promptly and honestly. But the questions were so easy, refusing to answer a question they both knew made him only seem slow. “You know this, why are you asking me?”

“Just wonderin’ if there’s a single honest bone in your body, Spy,” the Texan answered, letting his captive believe that this was nothing more than a game for him. He asked questions and already had all of the answers. Spy would learn to play along and answer his questions honestly.

“When had you started working at Team Fortress Industries?”

“Ten years. The same as you,” he reluctantly answered again, and watched the scissors with cautious attention.  
  
Engineer returned to his original question. “What weapons do you have on you?”  
  
Spy's mouth opened to answer, and he consciously stopped himself.  
  
The hesitation was obvious and awkward and Spy forced out an answer. "My tie pin..." It was a small weapon and he could spare that if it meant keeping something more dangerous, such as the small gun on his calf.  
  
Engineer smiled. That had been one he’d missed when he’d frisked Spy when he’d still been unconscious. He carefully took off the tie pin, inspecting it as he took it away to a table to take apart later. Spy had been honest and he would reward him again... with easier questions.

“What is my class name?”

“Engineer.”

“What colour is your car?”

“Red.”

“What’s the name of the town nearest to the bases?”

“Teufort.” Spy’s arms hung from the ropes, and he was frowning. Engineer was getting a steady stream of honest answers from him without resistance. He didn't feel like a cunning Spy at all.

“What weapons do you have on you?”  
  
The difficult question stirred Spy up again. He met Engineer's eyes and said firmly, "None." He forced a confident smirk, "Why? Do you have some reservation against harming an unarmed man?"  
  
Engineer ignored his words and ran the scissors up the other arm of his shirt, revealing his other arm. 

Spy twisted in an attempt to avoid the scissors, but could do nothing to stop them. Soft cotton sleeves hung open around his arms now, revealing a peek of the slender muscles. The shirt was ruined. 

Engineer’s eyes held eye contact with the Spy's the entire time, unflinchingly. "This is gonna keep going until you stop lyin'," he warned.  
  
Spy understood the rules of this game and knew that this game might end with himself completely naked and on display under the very bright hostile light. As much as the rogue wanted to keep the small gun strapped to his calf, it would not be possible. If Engineer left him naked, he would be robbed of his weapons and his dignity.

Spy pulled against the rope over his head and glared up at his bound wrists, then at Engineer. "I have a gun on my calf," he growled.  
  
"Better," Engineer praised while bending to collect the gun, grabbing Spy's ankle roughly to keep him from squirming despite the ropes tethering his ankles. He put the gun next to the tie pin. This time he skipped the easy questions and went right to the same one. "What weapons do you have on you?"  
  
Spy had few weapons on his body still. He wasn't sure what would happen after he gave up every weapon. He wondered if his interlocutor would move on to the next terrible tool glistening on his table.  
  
"My belt buckle." Spy forced the words out. He always wore a garrote close to him, as the wire was very simple and easy to conceal. But it was not his favourite weapon, and he reasoned that he could bear to part with it.  
  
Engineer took the whole belt off Spy, pulling it through the belt loops. He unwound the garrote from the buckle. “This sure would be faster if you listed them all, instead of making me ask you again and again.” He left both garrote and belt on the table. Going back to Spy, Engineer merely repeated his question. "What weapons do you have on you?"  
  
Spy was quite limited now. He only wore two more weapons and he was not willing to part with either without a fight. Spy's tongue pushed between his teeth where he usually had a cigarette to chew at when he was this nervous. He was really, truly missing a cigarette now. It was always easier to lie and take his time answering a question when he had a cigarette in his mouth. "None," he tried firmly.  
  
Engineer cut off the rest of Spy's shirt, and yanked the rags harshly to tear it off of the man. The fabric shredded loudly as Engineer twisted his grasp to pull it until it came free. 

Spy was pulled off balance as his shirt was yanked and pulled, but the ropes binding his wrists didn’t let him go far. Spy twisted and growled until the material tore free and he was left in a simple cotton undershirt.

Engineer discarded the ripped remains, leaving them on the cement floor by Spy's feet. "Wrong answer," he insisted. He repeated the question again. "What weapons do you have on you?"  
  
Spy was unsteadied but stubborn. He regained his composure and repeated, louder, "None! I am unarmed!" He jerked against the hand gripping his suit leg and insisted, “There’s nothing! Leave me be!”

The cold scissors started to open the material around his thigh and Spy shouted as if he was wounded by the destruction to his clothing. "My cigarette case!" He hated to part with it. It could give him the cigarette he desperately wanted right now. It could disguise him. And additionally, it was an effective fire starter.  
  
Engineer pulled it from Spy's pocket, tossing it carelessly next to the other weapons he'd taken from him. "Good." He gave Spy a smile, though there was nothing friendly about it. 

Spy could barely read the man’s features as he glared against the harsh light. The BLU appeared to be an entirely different man without a hardhat or goggles. But that familiar accent was a Conagher trademark.  
  
Again he asked his question, but this time it was different: "What weapon do you have on you?"  
  
Engineer's words shook Spy. He was asking for only _ one _ weapon, the single weapon Spy still had. A spring-loaded, double-edged dagger, which sprung from the toe of his shoe with a button on the heel. Engineer _ knew _ it was the last weapon.  
  
Spy realised now that all of the questions through this interrogation were the same: easy, simple questions that Engineer already knew the answers to, and so he knew when Spy was lying. All of his attempts to keep his weapons were foolish and completely futile.

Really, Engineer had taken a risk to prove that he knew the entire time what weapons Spy had on him. If he had been wrong, this interrogation would have gotten much more difficult.  
  
Spy lowered his head, defeated. He knew he was going to tell the truth and answer Engineer's question. But he shook his head as if he could fight off the question or deny that he woke up in this situation, utterly defenseless.

“Come on, we both know it.”

"A hidden knife in my shoe," Spy said softly with his head hanging.  
  
Engineer’s hand slid over the back of Spy’s neck. “That wasn’t too hard now, was it?” he crooned.

When Spy tried to shake off the hand, Engineer bent and took off both of Spy’s shoes. He left them under the table, ignoring them for now. “Now, I know it ain’t a weapon, but you’ve got one more thing on you that I intend to take before we’re done here. Can you guess what it is?” Engineer crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
Spy squinted into the blinding light at the unflinching expression of his captor. If this man wanted to leave him feeling truly naked, he was going to take his mask or his watch. Spy was afraid to suggest either. His voice was suddenly unsure and nervous. The unyielding confidence was gone. 

"My…" Spy’s voice was soft and pitiful as he started to offer his mask, despite his doubts. Engineer was cutting away his clothes and his mask fit that pattern of exposing him. But Engineer was collecting each of Spy's gadgets on a table. "_Non! Non, c'est mon montre_! You want my watch!" Spy changed course, suddenly sure that he solved the mystery.

Engineer smiled to see Spy so pitiful. It was a good look for him. He offered him something that must be difficult to part with. He’d never seen a spy without his watch willingly. But Engineer wasn’t interested in it yet.

He stepped closer, almost touching, and his hand slid up Spy’s thigh. 

Spy became tense, not because of the physical contact, but because he knew what the other wanted. The gunslinger grabbed the lock pick set attached to Spy’s leg and tugged on it. The scissors were back and he cut through Spy’s slacks and the garter holding the lock-pick set, letting it fall before scooping it up.

The rogue was humiliated to realise how well Engineer knew his equipment. Nothing at all was hidden from his captor. Spy guessed that Engineer frisked him while he was incapacitated and made a thorough inventory of all his weapons. It was obvious now, and Spy should have expected it. He was trained to be better than this, Spy believed.  
  
He sighed more heavily than he intended to, simply glad that everything was over and he kept his watch a little longer. He sagged in the ropes, forcing his arms to stretch farther to hold his weight.  
  
Lock-pick set removed, Engineer took the end of the rope from where it was attached to the far wall. It looped from there up to the ceiling, and he let out the slack to let Spy collapse to the ground. Before his captive could do much more than that, Engineer was at his side again, taking him by his sore shoulder and wrists and dragging him to a door tucked away in the darker side of the room.  
  
Behind the door was a small cell. Engineer went in with him and unwound the rope from Spy’s ankles and then wrists, quickly enough to fill the appendages with a numbing burn as blood returned to the skin.  
  
The bright light from the interrogation made glowing orbs in his vision that blinded Spy from seeing many details of where he was going or where he was. He blinked helplessly and despite feeling the Engineer’s rough hands, he couldn’t see anything but impenetrable blackness and glowing blue stains on his pupils.  
  
Spy swallowed hard and reminded Engineer, "You said we were done." He didn't struggle even as the ropes came free. He was too numb and exhausted, and besides that, blind, to try anything.

"We are done, for the night," Engineer assured him, patting his thin back and appreciating the warmth under his palm. 

Spy hesitated, reluctant to let the comforting gesture truly comfort him. 

"Oh, better not forget this one last thing." He grabbed Spy's wrist and undid his watch.

Spy twisted in Engineer's grip and tried to keep the watch, but his arms were tired and his hands were numb. It wasn't even a struggle to Engineer. "_Salope!"_ he cursed when the watch was taken from him. The watch crackled a quiet energy as a final secret cloak, which Spy wore very close to his body, failed. On his naked arms and thigh a tapestry of tattoos and scars were visible now.

"Can't have you trying to surprise me, can we now? Especially after you nearly suggested that I take this..." He tucked it in his pocket and looped the used rope over his arm.

Though Engineer had known Spy cloaked himself, he hadn’t been sure exactly what the man was hiding. He couldn’t help staring at the tattoos and scars curiously before stepping out. "You can rest here ‘til I’m ready for you." He wondered if the squinting and blinking man could even see the little red dot signifying a mounted camera above the door to watch him in this dark little cell. "Then we'll make sure you're really remorseful," he chuckled.

Engineer shut the door and locked it, leaving Spy alone in the dark, with only the tiny red light.


	3. Spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Engineer has many techniques for breaking down a spy's pride. Today, he gets to try one of his favourite methods: Spanking.

### 

_ Spy and his mentor stood at the opening of a dark and empty room. It was not welcoming, but it was state of the art. The walls were padded with pyramids of foam to dampen sounds inside and outside of the room. There were no windows or lights, and thick insulation around the door frame would block any light from coming through.No enemy would ever put so much effort into the discomfort of their prisoner by creating a totally soundproof chamber. Spy stroked his hand along the doorway and asked, “Did you make this for me? I wonder if I should be flattered. I’m sure you put a lot of time into this...” _

_ The older man raised his brow. “Does it help you to endure torture, if you feel special?” _

_ “I wouldn’t say that…” Spy evaded the question. He was only teasing, and didn’t expect his mentor to say something so insightful and profound. He was so desperate for this man’s attention, he’d revel in it even when it hurt him. His gloved hand moved along the sound-dampening walls. “I know that if I am a prisoner, I won’t experience so much attention. I will be locked in a cellar underground and abandoned until I believe I’m forgotten. The breaking tool will not be discomfort, it will be neglect.” _

_ Neglect was an uncomfortable idea for Spy. It was a fear he knew his mentor would try to make him face. A true spy needed to be independent and not seek the attention of anyone, friend or foe. _

_ Spy entered the cell and turned to face his mentor. “How long will I be here?” _

_ “Twenty-four hours, for this first session.” _

_ It sounded easy, and ominous, all at once. The younger man nodded bravely. “Do you have any advice for this task?” _

_ The older man answered from the doorway of the sensory deprivation room. "Sleeping is the first mistake most people make. They think they can sleep through the isolation and walk away well rested. Don't fall asleep.” _ __   
  


  
*

Spy was older now and had endured this form of torture before; he estimated he’d spent months of his life in darkness, simply from his mentor's harsh training. But it was probably a bad estimation.

Nonetheless, he followed the advice and resisted sleep even as his mind became bored, fatigued, and desperate to escape the darkness and go to dreams. He resisted as long as possible. He explored the shape of his dark cell and found the simple accommodations of a bed pad, a sink, and a toilet. He hummed little songs. He exercised briefly and washed his face in the sink. He relaxed on the pad and meditated.    
  
He estimated that he’d spent enough time awake that he could properly sleep for eight hours before enduring another day in isolation. He started to lower his body down to the bed pad and Engineer opened the door to Spy's cell.    
  
Engineer came in and dread filled Spy. It wasn't more than ten hours, possibly less, and Spy had prepared himself to be alone for days! To be released from the cell early would seem like a relief, except that he denied himself precious sleep.

Spy massaged his wrist where his watch belonged. "Ah, you again. I didn't expect to see you so soon."   
  
"Ain't that a pity," Engineer said, taking Spy's wrists and cuffing them behind his back. He led his captive out into the basement again, and this time there was a chair in the center of the room. A step before they reached it, Engineer kicked the back of Spy's knees, forcing him down to kneel. Engineer sat in the chair in front of him. 

Finally in the light, Engineer could see the scars and tattoos crossing what skin he had revealed yesterday, marks up both arms and peeking through the tear in Spy’s trousers. Some of the scars were wicked; some he could guess at. The tattoos seemed to be from all over the place, in different styles and likely gotten for very different reasons. He wasn’t surprised that the spy preferred to cover all of this. It was like reading his history on his skin.

Engineer could see the smooth contour of an Egyptian eye partially visible over the neckline of Spy’s undershirt. One of his arms showed a set of playing cards: The king of hearts, the jack of hearts, and the ace of spades. The collection of cards meant nothing to Engineer, and it wasn’t an important hand in any card game he’d ever played. They had entirely different meanings, but it wasn’t something he needed to suss out just now.

"I think it's time we get to know each other better, don't you?" Engineer was looking forward to this next session. It ought to completely throw Spy out of his comfort zone, and it'd be fun for himself.   
  
The chain linking the cuffs clicked quietly as Spy felt the locks and tested the tightness. If he had his lock-picking kit he could liberate himself quickly. But, fully unarmed as he was, he needed to play Engineer's game a little longer. He smirked up at Engineer and offered flirtatiously, "Perhaps over a glass of red wine?"   
  
"How about over my knee?" Engineer grinned, grabbing Spy by the arm and thigh and pulling him bodily up onto his lap, with his ass in the air.

Spy didn't have a retort for that, but Engineer did not wait for one anyway. He tugged down his slacks, just down to his thighs. It was easy enough now that Spy had no belt, though likely that wouldn't have stopped Engineer either. The thin material of his undergarments couldn’t even hide the shape of Spy’s ass as he flexed and twisted. Engineer ran his calloused palm up over the clothed ass and gripped the hem of his boxers before pulling them down as well. He ran his naked hand over Spy's bare ass, slowly.   
  
Spy understood exactly what Engineer intended: He was preparing to spank him. And yet, he couldn't believe it at all. Spy was never trained for such an absurd form of abuse. And even outside of his extensive training, no one ever used a method like this for torture.    
  
Spy was totally lost and fumbled through his mind, wondering how to react, how to keep his composure. "Wait, wait!" he pleaded against the heavy hand resting on his vulnerable skin. Spy's hands twisted in the handcuffs, trying to find a weak point to slip through. 

Engineer noticed the two smallest fingers on his left hand were missing, a small detail that was always overlooked either because of his gloves or his cloaking device. 

Spy twisted his hips to try to shake off the hand cupping the soft sit spot of his bum. "You must be joking!" Spy was caught between demanding and pleading.   
  
Engineer just laughed. "Does it look like I'm joking?" No matter how Spy squirmed, Engineer’s hand followed him easily. The gunslinger petted Spy’s back as if to calm him and comfort him in preparation of his spanking. He considered hiding how much he was enjoying this, but there was no point in that.   
  
The first few slaps were gentle enough, just raising the blood under the skin, warming Spy up for harder blows. He'd known this would surprise Spy; it wasn't usually a sanctioned method of torture. It couldn't do much damage, it wasn't even particularly painful, but it was humiliating, and for some men, arousing. Though this was a humiliating and harsh punishment meant to break Spy down, it was also a fantasy Engineer had wanted to indulge in with the RED Spy for quite some time.

Spy's squirming slowed and finally stopped as the rhythm of the spanking continued. Although it made him boil to be caught by the man he’d bullied for years, he could also admit, there were crueler ways to get revenge. The cold metal hand pressed to his back was a weapon, and Spy was lucky to not experience it yet.

Spy's fingers held onto the chain linking his cuffs for something to brace himself, but he no longer tried to pull free. For reasons he couldn’t fully understand, his eyes started to burn as salty tears formed, before his arse ever felt real heat from the gently stinging slaps.

It was maybe a minute of this before he asked his first question. Still spanking while he spoke, Engineer asked, "You've been a captive before?"   
  
" _ Oui _ ," he answered between spanks that were not quite painful, but certainly warm on his bottom.

Spy tried to be calm. As calm as Engineer's own voice. But the spanking was tormenting him deeply. Any memory of his training for torture seemed far away.   
  
Engineer was pleased how Spy seemed to be responding well to the force and rhythm of the blows. He sounded breathy, and he'd stopped struggling. It seemed like he was calming down under the regular spanks, so Engineer kept them at that pace.    
  
"How long were you kept?" he asked. Engineer wasn't sure how long he'd end up keeping Spy here. The Administrator wanted her information, and Engineer wanted to work quickly to get it out of Spy. But getting the information didn't require freeing the Spy afterwards. So far, he was a good source of entertainment, and Engineer didn't predict that would end. If he could stay here afterwards and torment his captive a little longer, he might.   
  
" _ Somme toute _ ..." he murmured in French as he added the different events. "Less than a year."   
  
Despite the glowing warmth in his ass cheeks, the sharp echo of the slaps, the humiliation of bending across this younger man's lap, the bite of the tight cuffs, the most difficult challenge was not having a cigarette (or anything to hold between his lips) to chew nervously at.

Spy's ass was getting pink, the blood close to the surface now. Engineer decided he could start hitting him harder now, easily. Whatever he did, Spy would be sensitive, but also properly warmed up to the heat and timing of this.    
  
"I'm guessing you were tortured too, hm?" Engineer almost sounded like they were having a casual conversation, except for the fact that his words were punctuated by hard slaps with the open palm of his hand.   
  
Spy addressed that question with caution. He was sure that if Engineer wanted to know if he had been tortured, he would certainly want to know how, and what was effective. "Jealous that you aren't my first,  _ Monsieur _ ?" He tucked his nails into his palm again, betraying his caution although his words were confident. "If you promise to be gentle, I can play the part of a virgin." His very suave attempt was interrupted by a quiet hiss to a stinging spank.

Spy arched up in pain and Engineer patiently bent him down again.   
  
Even without meaning to, Spy had answered his question. “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes sir.’” This wasn't the first time he was tortured. He was starting to pick up on Spy's body language. His hands curling seemed to be a protective gesture, as though he was afraid Engineer might de-nail him. It wasn't on his list, despite how common it was among other interrogators.

The spanking was gradually growing harder, each slap a little bit more until he was being far rougher. Spy’s muscular cheeks bounced under every slap, but he only started to twist away when the spanks layered upon each other too soon. Spy didn't flinch away for more than a moment after each blow, so Engineer wasn't worried that it was overwhelming for his captive.   
  
"And you were trained to resist torture, right?" It seemed likely that a professional Spy, who would likely endure torture in his life, would have been taught to resist many different methods of interrogation.    
  
Spy nodded. He didn't expect this question and it surprised him that Engineer asked it. It wasn't particularly private... But it wasn't particularly obvious. He wondered if Engineer was doing exactly as he said: getting to know him. Maybe Engineer was finding every way to put the spy off-balance and challenge him in ways he was never trained to face.

As his mentor warned, the Engineer was trained to break spies. No matter what horrible pain Spy was taught to survive, Engineer was taught to find a weak point in the armor and use it. Spy was certain that was the purpose now. To use his humiliation to break him.

The spanking continued and Spy answered again, out loud, to be sure his response was acknowledged and that Engineer wasn’t waiting for him. “Yes, I was!"   
  
"Good." Engineer wasn't sure if that  _ was _ good, really, but it made Spy more of a challenge and he liked that. The Administrator might not be pleased, but he was.    
  
He was quiet again for a while, stopping his hand and drawing his short, blunt nails over the tender skin of Spy's backside. Spy arched his back and bent his legs up. An embarrassing and undignified squeal escaped him before he could recover himself. Every inch of his body responded, even his fisted hands stretched out.

He traced a finger briefly over Spy's anus, but then it was gone as though it hadn't been there in the first place. 

Spy twisted, trying to glare up at his captor's face. He wasn’t sure what he felt, and he wasn't sure it happened. But he couldn't believe he imagined such a vivid sensation: a broad, firm, calloused finger stroking from his scrotum to his sacrum, over his puckered hole. 

The next spank was much harder, and Engineer fell back into a rhythm easily.   
  
Spy was distracted by the tender and intimate touch and when the next strike landed on his skin he fought again. He gasped, and cried out loudly, answering each loud and harsh spank with a sound as he twisted and kicked his legs.   
  
Now that he'd started getting a real response from Spy from the spanking, Engineer couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face. This was that state of mind he'd wanted. Spy's defenses were falling for him and all it took was half an hour bent over a sturdy lap, under a firm hand.   
  
"There you go," he murmured. "Now, I've got a couple more questions for you. Where were you going to go, now that you're not employed by Mann Co. or the Administrator?"   
  
Spy sobbed when he heard the question. He couldn't answer it. Questions like this, with answers that betrayed the secret agendas of allies, were what he was trained to resist. He was so raw and exposed he almost forgot he had a planned lie for when someone was certain to ask him.    
  
"I needed to get out of the country! I simply needed somewhere I can disappear and be unnoticed for a while!" Spy announced. It was a considerable effort to sound anything like he usually did.   
  
Spy’s voice was cracking, and Engineer was honestly a little surprised it had taken so little time. He must not have much experience being in this kind of state.    
  
"Oh, boy," Engineer said sympathetically, giving him a much harder slap. "That lie ain't gonna fly with me. Where were you going?"   
  
Spy cried out louder and twisted briefly to try to shake off the sharp pain of the last spank. Engineer's hard hand was like a paddle on his sensitive skin.

He knew he wasn't thinking clearly. Spy was dizied with euphoria, pain, fear and, somehow, excitement. But he could not determine how Engineer knew when he was lying. Engineer's confidence in calling his bluff made him feel even more naked, as if he were as easy to read as a book. 

Spy bit the tip of his tongue and lowered his head, determined to simply outlast this torture the classic way: saying nothing and endure what came. His fingers gripped the curve of the cuffs and held them tightly, grateful for anything to hold onto. His backside was burning, and the red lines that Engineer scratched were doubly sensitive.   
  
Engineer shook his head. “I’m gonna count down from five, and if I don’t get an answer, I’m gonna start using the gunslinger on your ass.

“Five...”   
  
The threat made Spy nervous. His options were dire: To give in again and tell Engineer he was traveling to Australia, or to accept a cruel spanking from the justifiably terrifying gunslinger and likely break down and give him an answer anyway. 

“Four...”   
  
Spy cursed quietly under his breath and he opened his eyes only to find his vision obscured by tears.

“Three...”

He closed his eyes in an attempt to keep the moisture in and not let them fall to the floor. With bound hands, he had no way to wipe away the tears once they started to wet his eyelashes. He didn’t have effort to spare on saving face, but he was determined to not be reduced to tears like this.

“Two…”   
  
It was hard to think past the burn on his ass cheeks, but the five-second pause gave him an opportunity to try. When Engineer opened his mouth to say ‘One,’ Spy had an answer. "I was going to a landing strip, to catch a plane."   
  
Engineer had been ready to flip Spy around on his lap so he’d be able to hit him with his other hand more easily. Spy answered right before he hit ‘one.’   
  
“Sneaky, but you know that’s not what I was asking. Tell me the truth. If you’re real good for me, maybe I’ll let you have a cigarette later,” he said. Going back and forth between cruel and kind was a sure way to keep Spy on his toes.    
  
As he waited, he stroked his fingers and the cool back of his hand over Spy’s red cheeks. He could feel him shaking with the effort of keeping his tears contained.   
  
Spy bit the inside of his lip at the thought of a cigarette. He was ashamed that he was even considering it. To be undone by his own addiction was embarrassing, but to be broken by a spanking was worse.

For the moment, he was grateful for the brief pause in the spanking. When he felt Engineer begin to shift beneath him again he spilled the answer for his captor, without meaning to. "Australia!"   
  
Engineer’s hand continued its gentle path over Spy’s red ass. “There,” he murmured. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good boy,” he praised.    
  
Engineer decided that was enough for now. He’d broken Spy down and brought him to tears. Spy had answered honestly—Engineer had found his plane ticket in a hidden pocket of his coat already. Engineer tugged up Spy’s trousers and rubbed his hand over him again, through the fabric. He undid the man’s cuffs and gave him some time to collect himself.   
  
Spy immediately brought his hands to his front but remained on Engineer's lap in stunned silence for a moment, unsure what had happened. The obvious events were still echoing in his mind and body. He was spanked, soundly. He was humiliated. He was reduced to tears. He was forced to answer the man's questions, honestly and fully.    
  
And yet, somehow, he felt himself swell with pride. He’d endured this man’s unconventional torture scene. And the praise, the warm and gentle and entirely unexpected praise… Spy could not help soaking it up and letting it soothe him.   
  
The masked man wiped away the moisture in his eyes and let himself remain on his captor’s lap. Lingering, maybe for more praise, maybe for the warm hand stroking and soothing his burning skin.    
  
Engineer caressed Spy until he seemed ready to get up. 

When Spy was composed, somewhat, he commented, breathlessly, "I was never trained for an encounter like that. I never expected a spanking at the hands of an enemy." Spy carefully pushed himself up, off of Engineer's lap, to stand up.   
  
Engineer put an arm out to support the man as he struggled to balance for a moment. He recognized the dazed and overwhelmed expression. The proud man was pained just enough to feel a pleasant rush of euphoria. Subspace, he’d heard it called. And although every man experienced it a little differently, he was pleased to discover Spy speaking freely about himself.

“I ain’t exactly trying to get intel,” Engineer lied with a chuckle. “You’re just here ‘cause you deserve all this.”   
  
Spy nodded, probably not agreeing with Engineer, but apparently not suspicious about his intentions. He continued to talk, aimlessly. None of it was useful to Engineer, but he let it continue. This was a good look for Spy, in Engineer’s opinion, and he expected he’d be ready for more attention in another session or two. 

  
He stood. Even with Spy standing taller than him, there was something commanding about his stance. “C’mere.” He gestured, leading him back to his little cell. “I’ll bring you some food and a cigarette in a while.”   
  
Spy followed Engineer without protesting, simply following the order as if he had no filter or inhibition to resist. He entered the dark cell and went to the limp pad on the floor. Unaware if Engineer was even in the doorway still, Spy lowered himself to the bed, facedown with consideration on his abused ass.    
  
He closed his eyes without meaning to and murmured, "Don't fall asleep." But he barely said the words before he was gone, sleeping very deeply and very comfortably. Better than the flimsy sleep pad should allow. Better than he ever slept in captivity before.   
  
Engineer just smiled and shut the door.    
  
For now, he had another spy to meet. The RED Spy’s car and suitcase had enough information to stay ahead of his own questions and answers for a little while, but some proper intelligence from the BLU Spy would make all the difference.


	4. Electricity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we get a little more sexual...

_ The young Frenchman sat with relative comfort on a hard wooden chair. His legs were parted around the back, his chest pressed against it.. A cigarette was pinched between his lips and he watched as the ashes fell to the floor and occasionally adjusted its position when the plumes of smoke clouded his vision. _

_ Behind him was his mentor, sitting in a matching wooden chair. He pulled his student’s arms behind him and methodically wound rope around his thin wrists. _

_ If anyone asked the Frenchman for his opinion, he would not say he had slender hands. He would describe them as agile, perfect for picking locks, cracking safes, and slipping into purses and pockets without notice. But in truth, he simply had small, even effeminate, soft hands. _

_ His mentor’s hands were larger, and stronger. They squeezed his wrists as he tied the rope and the younger spy found himself not minding the dull ache in his hands. He flexed his muscles and pulled slowly against the ropes only to feel his mentor’s much stronger hand restrain him. He expected the man was much stronger and quicker, and if he chose to fight back he might still end up in ropes. _

_ His mentor was not interested in a fight. His hand rested on his student’s shoulder. “Stop.” _

_ The resistance left the younger man’s arms and the rope pulled tighter around him. He nodded and answered numbly, “Yes, sir.” _

  


*

Spy woke feeling as if he’d slept for an entire day or more. As his mentor had warned, he had no grasp of how much time passed, or what time it was now. He existed in a strange twilight between exhaustion in night-like darkness, and alertness after rousing from sleep.  
  
He sat up and smoothed a palm over the top of his balaclava. In an attempt to pretend things were normal, for the sake of his mental health in captivity, he got up to wash his face in the sink.  
  
As he reached out his hand to push himself up, he found a tray on the floor. Spy cautiously felt the tray until discovering the food in it with his fingertips. He guessed it was food, anyhow. Smelling it and tasting it did not convince him of that. But it was nourishment enough to take away the pain in his stomach and it was a blessed distraction from the darkness and silence.  
  
Nimble fingers dipped into each part of the tray with curiosity. When his fingers brushed a paper stem he immediately knew what it was and brought the slim cigarette to his lips with relief.  
  
He searched the floor thoroughly, on hands and knees, hoping to find a lighter. Spy would prefer to enjoy the cigarette properly, with all of the flavour and nicotine trapped on the other side of that little filter. But he doubted Engineer trusted him with fire. Engineer knew exactly how dangerous his captive was.  
  
Finally, Spy relaxed back on the sleeping pad and stared at the endless black void, or perhaps the ceiling. It was hard to know. And it was hard to care now that he could worry his anxiety away, nibbling at the cigarette and rolling his tongue over the filter end.  
  
Engineer let Spy eat and enjoy his cigarette while he tinkered with a simple project at his desk. Despite not talking at all, the image of his captive spy on the screen felt like company in his lonely workplace. He had three of these mounted, to see all the corners of the room, curious to see what Spy would do in the supposed blind spots of the only visible camera.

He waited for a good stopping point with his own project before heading down to the dungeon of a basement. Outside of Spy's little room he set things up, readying things for Spy. Spy had only slept six hours, but by now Engineer was sure he had no idea if it was day or night. It was a disorienting feeling for captives with no sunlight.  
  
Engineer set up his small electromechanical violet wand, and he lowered the rope from the ceiling so he'd be able to tie Spy standing up again. Once he was ready, with all his tools nearby, he collected Spy.  
  
Spy was relieved to see light pour into the small room. And a part of him was excited to see the Engineer as well. He quickly reminded himself, however, that this man was the cause of some lingering soreness on his arse. This man was here to torture him. Spy set down his unlit cigarette and stood up to follow, showing enough cooperation so that Engineer would not come in to fetch him.  
  
Engineer was pleased to see the obedience. He led him over to the ropes suspended from the ceiling and lifted Spy's arms to bind his wrists. He used the rope masterfully, his knots coming easily, tight and inescapable. As a man who had been torturing spies his entire adult life, bondage wasn’t difficult for him.  
  
Once Spy was in place, he circled him. He'd left him a little more slack this time, enough that he wasn't stretched up, and his hands were just above his head. It would still be uncomfortable after a while, but it wasn't instantly painful. Engineer gave him a pat on the ass, smirking. He knew where the biggest bruises were and he aimed for them with his broad hand. "How's that feelin'?"  
  
Spy watched Engineer's predator-like circle, but the pat still surprised him. He twisted his shoulders to look back at his captor "I'm fine. Your treatment was nothing I cannot handle," he answered coolly. "I don't typically conduct myself in _ that _ manner." It wasn't clear if he meant the sobbing and tears, or desperately shouting the answers Engineer wanted. "I never expected to encounter treatment like that," Spy explained. After a pause he smirked with confidence. "But now I'm prepared for you. I won't be so easy."  
  
Engineer did not sound as though he believed Spy when he hummed an answer. "Mhm. You got any metal in you?"  
  
Spy studied Engineer's expression in silence, simply unsure what answer benefited him. If he said no, was Engineer free to act out some terrible sadistic plan? If he said yes, was Engineer going to cause some terrible pain around those metal parts? So far, Engineer had only wanted the truth. Consequences happened when he lied.  
  
"Yes," he cautiously answered, honestly.  
  
Though Engineer had some of Spy's medical report from the RED Medic, the paperwork was unfortunately full of redacted or blank lines. His scars were labelled on a small chart, but nothing that said there was something under the skin, nothing said how deep the injuries went—only speculation as to what caused them. His missing fingers hadn’t even been on the chart, so it was clear the information there couldn’t be entirely relied upon.

"Where?" Engineer asked.

Spy swallowed and answered what he knew. "Some pins in my knee... And a piercing for my nipple." He was embarrassed to add the latter.  
  
Engineer smirked. “Well, well,” he purred. “Ain’t that interesting?” He grabbed a small wand that was attached to the violet wand proper. As he held it, he felt the charge running through him like static, running straight to the gunslinger and humming at the skin where it attached. He handed it to Spy, expecting him to take and hold it. The charge was mild, but this way they’d find out exactly where there was metal under Spy’s skin.  
  
Spy might have refused to take it, if he hadn’t watched Engineer hold it without complaint. Whatever this tool was, it couldn't be torture yet. He opened his bound hands and let Engineer put it in his palms.  
  
Spy immediately realised the results and tensed at the strange sensation. His nerves were tingling in a strange ticklish static around the metal pins in his knee that he otherwise never noticed. The sensation around his nipple was so much more intense and strangely erotic. Spy had enough awareness to recognise metal in a bullet wound on his shoulder. But he quickly released the wand, dropping it and ceasing the electric current.  
  
"What was that?" Spy demanded.  
  
“Violet wand electrode. Feel it anywhere else?” Engineer pressed him, picking up the wand. He didn’t push it into Spy’s hands yet, waiting to see how painful it had been and where.

Spy lied instinctively "_Non_." His lips pinched at a cigarette that wasn’t there.  
  
Considering for a moment, Engineer put the wand down and attached a different electrode, a long curved length of blown glass. For now he would use this, since it gave him more control.  
  
If Spy was inspecting these tools as someone other than the victim, he would have been amazed at the delicate craftsmanship. But as the victim of Engineer's torture, he looked at the beautiful glass wands as the terrible dreams of a surrealist sadist.  
  
Engineer pressed the end of the new tool close to Spy’s skin, against his exposed bare arm. The closer the attachment to skin, the less painful it was. Engineer didn’t believe Spy, but that was only going to work out poorly for the liar when that hidden metal was discovered.  
  
Spy pulled away as much as the rope and slack allowed. But he could not go far. The wand connected with his skin and the point of contact hurt less, but the nerves tingling around the metal in his body seemed to quietly scream. He twisted and pulled at the rope as the electrical current tickled reflexes through his body. He wanted to use his hands to rub out the buzzing electricity under his skin. Although it wasn't painful yet, it was such a deep feeling, Spy could not respond with words.  
  
Slowly, Engineer pulled the toy back. A purple arc leapt between the glass electrode and Spy’s skin, and the charge began to hurt.  
  
This time, Spy moved with Engineer, trying to keep the contact and avoid the purple arc punishing his skin. The rope prevented him from getting closer to the Engineer and he stopped where it restrained him, suffering the purple arc that traveled wherever Engineer led it.

With a little smile, Engineer led the snapping whip of electricity up to Spy's exposed wrist, curious to see how he'd react to a more sensitive area. When the toy buzzed and cracked, Spy flinched and his calm breathing faltered.

As the rope moved wherever his wrists moved, the arc of the wand moved also. Spy’s expression showed a great amount of willpower and focus. The surge of electricity could make it hard to remember to breathe, but he willed himself to breathe through it.  
  
When he had enough of it he jerked back, as far as the rope would allow him to move, to break the arc and end the electrical flow. "Speak, damn you!" Spy hissed. "You didn't tell me what you want from me!"  
  
Spy found himself needing to know Engineer’s rules and guidelines. The rules that indicated exactly how to save his ass—literally—and the consequences of not playing along. He worried about Engineer's warning that this wasn't an interrogation. If this was simply what Conaghers liked to do when they weren’t building sentries, then he had no choice but to suffer.  
  
But he hoped, even if this was so, Engineer still had rules for Spy to exist within.  
  
"Is that what you need?" Engineer grinned, stroking a hand up Spy's side, letting the glowing electrode come away from his skin to create painful arcs along his ribs before taking it away. He put it down for now. "I guess you'd rather be interrogated than hurt for the fun of it, hm?" 

Spy was horrified when Engineer put it into words. Spy couldn’t believe that he was asking to be interrogated! He couldn't deny it, but he couldn't believe it. The rogue could blame his captor for twisting his mind in this way. But that didn't make him feel better.  
  
Grabbing the bottom of Spy's undershirt, Engineer rolled it up to reveal Spy's abdomen, then his chest. Once he had it up past his nipples, he hooked his thumb in Spy's mouth and forced the thick roll of material in like a gag. "Now, you hold onto that," he chuckled. 

He accepted the gag but didn't appreciate it. At least, he didn't appreciate the size of it or how it silenced him. But he was silently grateful for a rule to follow, if that might give his world structure.

The European's torso was a visual history of his life in tattoos and scars. But most notable was a tattoo of a falcon on his ribs. Many of the tattoos on Spy appeared to be symbolic or heavy with meaning. The Egyptian eye on his pectoral certainly identified a group. A skyline framed in clouds identified an exotic place he’d traveled. But the falcon was large, detailed, and beautiful. There was intention behind it.  
  
Engineer left Spy alone for the moment, trusting that Spy would keep it in his mouth. He switched out the electrode, going for something that looked like a tapered light bulb. This light glowed white, and Engineer drew it up over Spy's navel, up the center of his body to his chest. Spy’s muscles shivered as the white glow made his hairs stand up.

The wand traveled over the metal nipple piercing. The arc immediately leapt to the metal with a strong zap. "Ain't a lot of questions you can answer like that, are there?" he said, looking at Spy expectantly for an answer. 

Spy bit into the gag as every muscle in his body tensed, almost unable to hear Engineer's words.He was unable to respond until Engineer eased the wand away. With heavy breaths through his nose he nodded.  
  
Engineer resisted the urge to run his fingers over Spy's scars and tattoos. The falcon was of particular interest to him, if only because of the Classic Spy’s infamous title ‘Falcon Eye.’ But he ignored it. If Spy knew it was important to Engineer, he would likely resist saying much.  
  
There was still one way to interrogate the gagged and bound Spy, and Engineer decided to take advantage of it. He kept the wand at bay for a time, asking his first question. "You've got more shrapnel in you somewhere, don't you?"  
  
Spy wrapped his palms around the ropes binding him and squeezed until his knuckles were white as he prepared himself for pain. His training allowed him to remain composed as he nodded ‘ _ yes. _’

Engineer couldn’t simply ask where and expect a coherent answer. And anyway, he’d already asked that question and his captive had missed his opportunity to answer truthfully. Instead, the Texan stated, “I’m gonna look for it. And when I find it, you know how to tell me?” He tapped the wand on Spy’s nipple and then hovered over it, torturing the small bit of pink skin holding the metal barbell.

Spy was braver when it came to withstanding conventional torture. But no amount of training could protect him from the raw pain that pierced the air and his skin, straight to his nerves. His body reacted every time Engineer touched him with the wand, arching his back and stretching up onto his toes to bend dramatically backwards as every muscle twisted in him. 

“Just like that.”

Spy would answer Engineer whether he wanted to or not when the wand found hidden shrapnel in his body and forced him to react.  
  
After a few powerful sparks ran through the metal of the nipple piercing, Engineer lowered the wand, seemingly ready to move on.  
  
Spy went limp in the ropes as soon as the wand left his body. He remained bent backwards, with his head tipped back fully. He would fall backwards to the ground if the ropes binding his wrists didn't hold him. His teeth remained deep in the cloth, giving it a lot more abuse than the small stem of a cigarette could endure. 

Suddenly, Engineer pinched Spy’s nipple between two rough fingers and teasing it ‘til it was hard. He watched Spy’s expression as he did so, curious to see his reaction.  
  
The man came to life, twitching and fighting against the ropes but also not daring to pull away from Engineer. The hardness of his captor’s fingers had the strength to rip the piercing from his skin, if he chose, and add another gruesome scar to his body. Spy would endure it, if it happened. Bound in this state, he had no other choice. But he protested it readily by spitting the cloth from his mouth and shouting, "Mercy! Mercy, Engineer, please!"  
  
Engineer laughed. “Was that a thank-you, or a safeword?” But he let go. He’d had no intention of hurting Spy with that gesture, though it was interesting that it was here that Spy begged for mercy. He liked the idea of his fingers making the Frenchman scream _ merci_.

Spy breathed with relief as his tender nipple was left alone. He chose not to answer Engineer and only hung his head.

“Shouldn’t‘ve dropped your gag,” he said, patting Spy’s cheek. Engineer undid the front of Spy’s pants, letting them drop to his ankles, after catching briefly on his erection. 

Spy's heart crawled up into his stomach and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't understand the reaction and only hoped Engineer wouldn't ask for an explanation. Spy had heard of plenty of common men who developed raging erections when faced with life-or-death fear. But for himself, he’d never responded to death or fear in this way before. 

Engineer circled him again, tugging down the back of Spy’s underwear to expose his ass, enjoying the few purple bruises he’d left earlier. He pinched one of them. “Bet the wand’ll feel intense on these.”

Spy was so lost in his thoughts he didn't hear Engineer's words until he felt the pinch on a sensitive bruise across his ass. He hissed and his hips twitched. The half-grown erection was temporarily forgotten. "I think these bruisess are punishment enough, no?" Spy suggested.  
  
“You think so, hm?” Engineer asked. “You and I have different ideas about punishment.”  
  
He noted Spy’s erection with interest. He’d seen that kind of involuntary reaction before, but he liked the idea of humiliating Spy about it. “Especially since you seem to be enjoying this so much.”  
  
He brought the wand over Spy’s bared ass, letting the arc grow longer and travelling it over his sensitive bruises. He was tempted to ask no more questions and simply leave this session as torture, but he did want to encourage Spy to speak more openly.  
  
“Now, this is a hard question.” He snorted at his accidental pun. “How old are you?”  
  
Spy barely had a moment to recover, physically or mentally. Engineer was pushing him hard with the wand, the taunting, and now the questions. His cock didn't soften at all as the electric arc traveled over the bruises on his ass. He was certain that Engineer's plan was to humiliate him. It was working. 

Spy tilted his hips forward as far as possible to get away from the wand, but it didn't seem to matter whether he was close or far. The arc found him and stung his skin as much, possibly more. He cursed quietly and whimpered as he searched his mind for the answer. Not the _ truth _ , but the rehearsed answer that made him just a little too young to be a part of conspiracies he was active in. "Forty!"  
  
Engineer hummed as though disappointed. "That ain't the answer I was looking for here," he said. He put the glass toy down.

His captive started to whimper before even knowing what was planned next. The prisoner knew he was going to suffer for lying and was reminded again that Engineer knew when he was telling the truth, or lying. Or possibly, his captor simply knew everything.

Engineer re-affixed the heavier metal wand and pressed it into Spy's hands again, binding his hands shut around it with electrical tape so he couldn't drop it. For a moment, he left him like that, feeling the humming buzzing of all the metal that was in and touching his body. 

Spy's body was singing. Every nerve was fully aroused by electricity coursing through them. The places where metal was in his body burned with that strange, sharp sensation of electricity. His previously abused nipple was doubly sensitive, but he could endure this. He grasped the wand tightly as the only thing he could hold onto and breathed calmly, unaware he was humming quietly through the pain. Spy watched Engineer's expression. He could endure this, he could outlast this treatment and not break. 

Then Engineer showed him what that tool was really for. He reached out his gunslinger and drew it up Spy's naked thigh. Sparks lit up under his metal fingers as though it was electrified, the arcs biting mercilessly at Spy's skin. The hand-shaped weapon created a storm of lightning between flesh and metal.

Spy shuddered under Engineer's hand and jerked helplessly. At first he could not find a breath to even scream, simply gasping air without rhythm or any awareness of his training. Then he was screaming. Spy's eyes met Engineer's again, but now with no defiance and no stubbornness. Silently pleading for mercy until he could put words together.  
  
The sparks of electricity traveling between the gunslinger and Spy's naked skin were beautiful, and Engineer took a moment just to admire them. He'd always loved playing with tools like these. Far safer than most people would imagine, and so beautiful. And they could create so many sensations! Soft and buzzing tickles, or sharp and hot pain, like fire or a knife against the skin. He knew from experience that the gunslinger caused the second sensation. His family had always been of the opinion that you couldn’t torture someone without a good idea of what the pain you were inflicting felt like.

Spy writhed and fought the ropes holding him up, struggling to get away from the gunslinger and the agony it was causing him. 

Engineer could see his distress. It was an expression that begged pity, and Engineer took his hand away, giving Spy a break, to breathe and recover. 

Spy gasped and put his head on his arm to rest. He relaxed as much as he could with the current running through him, and with the gunslinger within reach. He said, "Forty..." again; Engineer’s hand twitched and he repeated it once more before having enough air to say it all, "Forty-nine."  
  
Engineer gave him a little nod, smiling benevolently. "There, that wasn't too hard, now was it?"

Spy watched Engineer's smile as he listened to the praise. He wanted to answer that question by spitting out some angry words. But he knew his captor didn’t want an answer to this question.

Engineer only asked questions he knew the answer to, besides asking if Spy had more metal under his skin. He was reluctant to ask a question he didn't know the answer to yet. Spy was still being properly trained. Spy was still learning that if he lied, Engineer would know. He needed to believe that, completely, and he needed to _ fear _ lying to his captor.

The technique was effective, and even now, Spy was frightened by the threat of punishments. 

During his early training, Spy had worked tirelessly with his mentor to suppress those reflexes that betrayed honest men. And yet, Engineer always knew without hesitation. Spy wasn’t sure what was more frightening: if his captor already knew every secret about him, or if his captor could open him up and read him like a book.

Finally, Engineer couldn't resist a question that he didn't have an answer to. He reached out his hand—the flesh and blood one—and tugged gently on Spy's piercing. "Why did you get this?" he asked. 

Spy followed his attention down to his nipple with dread. He groaned quietly as Engineer teased it. The piercing made his nipple sensitive enough in common situations. But after being tortured with the wand and forced to endure the constant hum through his body now, he was very delicate. His cock had weakened during the harsher treatment but it became harder again as Engineer played with the nipple. He whimpered and answered, but only the smallest amount of information. "I wanted it."  
  
Engineer flexed his gunslinger, looking between Spy and his hand thoughtfully, grinning. "You know that's not enough," he pressed. "This isn't just something you wanted. It's got a _ reason _, like all these pretty tattoos, doesn't it?"

Spy's muscles became tense as he anticipated the gunslinger, and he hurried to answer Engineer's question to avoid those burning sharp arcs. _ "Oui!" _ Spy squirmed as he fought an inner battle. In his head, the power his mentor held over him was at war with the power his new captor held. Little by little, one was overtaking the other in his mind. "I wanted to impress someone," he added.  
  
"That's better," Engineer purred, stroking his organic hand down Spy's bare arm, keeping the gunslinger tucked behind his back safely so he could be close to Spy without the electricity arcing between them. "Who was it?" he pressed, his hand wandering down over Spy's chest, then circling his nipple again. It made Spy's cock stiffen each time he played with it, he noticed, but he didn't remark on it this time. He only used it to further torment the man.

Spy was taking very small steps in fully cowing to the will of his captor. Or rather, he was taking a step forward and then always taking a step back. The tip of his tongue tapped between his teeth in search of a cigarette that he needed so desperately to calm his nerves. "Only an old lover."  
  
Engineer saw Spy desperately feel about for a cigarette and was sure that his answer wasn't the truth, or at least, not the complete truth. "Is that so?" Engineer remarked. "It's a pretty thing to get for someone. Did they like to play with it, while you fucked?" He tweaked the barbell again, tugging just hard enough to hurt.

By now, Spy's cock was fully hard and jutting forward rudely. There was not enough self-control in him to force it down now. Certainly not if the conversation was about sex now. He pitifully whined as the nipple was tugged, unsure if this was a punishment, but certain that he was caught in a lie. "_Non_," Spy answered honestly.  
  
"What a pity." Engineer dragged his hand across Spy's chest to the other nipple, rubbing it between his finger and thumb. "Is that why you never got a matching one?" His voice was a low rumble. 

Engineer's own cock was getting hard playing with Spy like this, seeing how aroused he was. There was so much he wanted to do to Spy, with Spy, and he had to hold himself back. These sessions had to work up from gentle to unbearable, and this was only their second session. He had to be gentle. He had to restrain himself. All he wanted to do was grab Spy with the gunslinger and fuck him until he couldn't stand, until he just hung from the ropes limp and helpless, begging to cum. 

He circled around to the back of Spy again, trying to regain his composure while making his captive feel unsettled, having a man behind him.

Spy answered with embarrassment, "Yes." He felt himself losing focus again. He felt as if his mind was spread out on a blueprint for Engineer to read. But these things were never written on paper, they were concepts not fully put into words in his own mind! Spy let the Engineer walk away without protest until he felt him lingering in his blindspot. The hairs raised on the back of Spy's neck and he turned his head, barely, to watch him.

"Ain't that a pity," Engineer repeated. "It's a pretty thing to play with, and you seem to like it." He touched one finger of the gunslinger close to Spy's shoulder, letting an arc leap between him and the tattooed black cat, with an angry buzz and snap. "Whoever it was... they never really were your lover, were they?" he suggested. If they had been, Engineer was sure he would have gotten some different answers. He imagined this was someone Spy had pursued and never gotten. Spy's tell had implied that something he'd said wasn't quite true, but the last couple answers had been honest enough. He had gotten it for someone, and they hadn't wanted to fuck him, or play with his new piercing. Humiliating for someone known for being seductive.  
  
Spy was exhausted by pain and fatigue and could not even remember the tattoo of a vicious black cat on his shoulder. The only thing Spy could think of was the piece of bullet in his skin underneath it, and how Engineer seemed to reach for it. Certain that the man intended to hurt him for lying, Spy backpedaled quickly. "No, he wasn't!” He spoke so quickly, he didn’t realise when he gave up the gender of the mysterious almost-lover. He kept talking. “I'm sorry, I lied. I have more shrapnel! I didn't know it when you first asked, and then—" He abandoned the attempt to explain it. "Please, please, mercy!"

Engineer pulled his gunslinger away, smiling. Spy was so responsive again, desperate to be honest with him. He was clearly deep in that suggestible state of mind again. He was gratified to be right, glad that his instincts on Spy's little tell were correct. He had a feeling if the man had a cigarette pinched between his lips he wouldn't have a tell at all. 

"There, that's better. It hurts a lot less to tell me the truth, doesn't it?" he crooned, his hand stroking over the tattoo on Spy's shoulder, where the sparks had hit. 

Spy whimpered and nodded. It wasn’t a question for information, but he felt compelled to answer it anyway.

"I've just got one more question for you, darlin', then you can have a rest and a cigarette," he promised. "Who told you about the gravel wars?" He had a suspicion it was someone on the Classic team. It was rare that outsiders knew about the strange war that was going on in New Mexico. Engineer had grown up knowing about it, but even someone who collected information for a living might not have known about the strange old feud between Redmond and Blutarch.  
  
Spy flinched under the gentle touching. They both knew the answer, he was sure, like they knew the answer to every question Engineer used to taunt him. Forcing him to answer an easy question honestly, or face punishment; those were the rules of this game. To show Spy how easy he was to break. "My mentor," Spy answered, soft and broken, and starting to hang his head.  
  
“Who’s that, now?” Engineer feigned disinterest, though this was what he was looking for. Spy's mentor. They were so close to what the Texan wanted to know, and the captive didn’t seem to think he was being made to betray anyone. But if he seemed too interested in it, Spy would know that Engineer was after information and he would shut down. And if Spy lied then, he might not catch on.

“The Classic BLU Spy,” Spy answered with a shudder.

Using only his organic hand, he freed Spy's hands and took the metal electrode away, turning off his machine. Once that was done, he picked up a chair and put it behind Spy before untying him. He was sure the man would just drop once he was free.

Spy landed in the chair, and though he immediately arched his back to show discomfort with the pressure on his bruises, he relaxed into the chair. His numbed hands fumbled to bring down his undershirt and hide the history carved into his chest. He pulled at his briefs and slacks modestly, shifting in his chair as he covered his arse and tucked away his erection.

Spy caught his breath for a while with his eyes closed, then finally opened his eyes to look up to Engineer, almost pitiful. "A cigarette, _ s'il vous plaît_?"  
  
Engineer looked down at his wrecked enemy and nodded. He’d brought a pack down, not trusting Spy’s cigarettes. He held one out for Spy, put one between his own lips and leaned close to light them both at once. Engineer grabbed another chair and sat in front of Spy, his elbows on his thighs, watching Spy intently.  
  
The serial smoker pinched the stem in his lips, and breathed deeply. His oral fixation of chewing on his cigarette and licking the tip of the filter was unnoticeable with a cigarette in place. "Are you nearly done having your fun, _ Monsieur_?" Spy wasn't sure how many sessions he could last. This was the second or third session, and he felt utterly ruined already.  
  
“Not yet,” he chuckled. “But like I said, it’s easier on you if you tell the truth.” Engineer smiled, glancing down at Spy’s erection. “But I think you’ve enjoyed some of it.”  
  
Spy was more humiliated as Engineer taunted him: first with his lingering attention on his nipple, now his erection. He wasn't going to accept all of it without a complaint. "_Tasse-toi! _ It is a common reaction."  
  
Engineer grinned. “If you say so.” He liked the look of Spy, red where the sparks had hit him, looking exhausted and well used.  
  
Spy shifted in his seat, very uncomfortable under the unyielding stare. He wasn't sure what he disliked more, the heavy gaze on him or the persistent red light of the camera in his cell. The red light made him want to slink into a shadow and disappear. Engineer's stare made him feel a need to continue speaking. "This isn't my usual reaction,." Spy said. "My nipples are sensitive." A look of conflict on his face showed that he didn't know why he was telling Engineer anything so private. "Especially this one… due to my piercing."  
  
Engineer liked Spy’s need to explain himself. It happened sometimes with prisoners, if he let the silence linger after he got them talking. He hadn’t expected it to work on Spy, but then again, Spy wasn’t in his right mind. “Too bad you couldn’t get him to play with it, hm?” he said, sympathetically. 

Spy laughed dryly. It was the most agreeable thing his captor said yet. But he shrugged; he knew nothing could change his strictly professional relationship with his mentor. "_Si, c'est dommage_." He expelled ribbons of smoke and looked very peaceful for a man with slacks around his ankles only moments before. "He had plenty of piercings on himself, when I saw him without his balaclava."  
  
Now that was interesting. Engineer considered it a success to have Spy speaking freely about his crush, but didn’t expect his crush to be a spy, and possibly the same spy as his mentor. “A shame.” He shook his head. “What’d he think when he saw it on you?” His questions needed to be casual, more like curious gossip than interrogation.  
  
The technique was working. The Frenchman spooked easily; too much interest in whatever he said, would surely make him return to silence. But the gentle inquiries of Spy's experience let him elaborate and think it was his own idea to tell Engineer. "Who knows what is in his mind? But he said to me that I was foolish, _ le con_." Even as he insulted his mentor, it was half hearted. Much more of him was a loyal follower, still. He obediently went back on the insult. “He was right. My mentor was always right. He warned me it would be used against me if I was ever caught.”

Engineer couldn’t believe his luck with this line of questioning and circumstances. Spy’s mentor, and almost lover, was the Classic BLU Spy. It was the best connection possible to the Classic team. He was determined to make Spy spill out every secret like opening an old diary, without knowing he was betraying his old heartthrob.

But for now, that seemed like all he could say on the subject without causing alarm. Engineer tutted to himself. “It’s a pretty thing.” He liked it on Spy. He wanted to feel it under his tongue, bite it gently. “Maybe I’ll give you a matching one.”

Spy was silenced by the praise, but not due to some stubborn resistance. Rather, he didn't know how to answer. He was somehow equally flattered and frightened. Engineer approved of it, but that attention had a promise of pain. "I don't plan on staying as your captive for that long, _ Monsieur_." Spy wasn't sure which feeling won in the end, but he moved his gaze. He took the cigarette from his lips and decided he had enough time that he could light the unlit cigarette hidden in his cell and he could enjoy that one as well. "I'm ready to return to my cell, if you please."  
  
Engineer stood, and Spy returned to the room without protest. Spy waited in the darkness for a moment until he heard Engineer’s steps move away. He scowled at the little red dot over the doorway that marked the presence of a camera. It was mounted too high for him to tear the thing from the wall and be done with it. But with a lot of stretching he managed to push the angle enough to leave one corner of the room blind.  
  
Engineer returned up to his little nest of screens with his lunch. He was as tired as his captive. Keeping a dangerous spy totally under control was a lot of work. But he was just as keyed up as Spy due to the erotic result of the last session. When he looked at Spy’s main camera, he saw it was pushed slightly to the side. He watched the other cameras to see what he was up to in his newfound ‘privacy.’.  
  
Spy lit the cigarette from his food tray, and retreated to his private corner. His back met the cool wall and he tipped his head back to the smooth surface. He slipped a slender hand into his slacks to grip his cock and stroke it with long slow movements.  
  
Engineer was now glad he'd set up his cameras this way. He'd hoped that Spy would attempt to find a blind spot, to do something he wouldn't do under a camera. He did not expect masturbating in the corner after they had just had a session.  
  
A grin slowly spread across Engineer's face as he watched Spy smoke and touch his cock. His own cock throbbed and he leaned back, undoing his pants and letting it spring out. He stroked himself as he watched Spy do the same. He hadn't expected this, even after watching how hard Spy became under the torment to his nipples. He'd thought Spy wouldn't want to give into that feeling, especially since he protested it, and surely found Engineer's attention to be humiliating.

*

  
Every detail of the torment was fresh in Spy's mind and he was letting it linger there as he touched himself. Soon, simply massaging his cock under the clothes wasn't enough. He dropped his slacks and his briefs and stroked more deliberate movements from his base to tip. 

In his career the spy often was in a situation of moral grey. His answer was to focus on his job and not wonder at the motivations. But he couldn't stop wondering why the most satisfying strokes along his cock followed vivid thoughts of Engineer. The man terrified him truly. Spy felt lost and overwhelmed, captured by a superior enemy and with no way to escape. 

But he couldn't stop thinking of how Engineer taunted him as he brought the wand across his ass. Or how Engineer teased his overly sensitive nipple between his fingers. Spy pinched the cigarette between his lips and let his other hand crawl up under his shirt to pinch his own nipple, very gently and very cautious. An attempt to recreate Engineer's own actions.

*

  
  
As Spy revealed more of himself, Engineer couldn't help mimicking his speed, the way he slid his hand all the way up and down the length of his cock. 

His captive's hand slid up under his shirt to tease his surely tender nipple, and Engineer knew then exactly what Spy was thinking about. Before it had been a possibility that he was just trying to gain some relief or give himself a pleasant distraction. But watching him toy with his pierced nipple while stroking himself, Engineer knew Spy was thinking of him. It was easy for Engineer to do the same. He wanted to imagine if the scene had ended differently: once he'd untied Spy, he'd forced him to his knees and fucked his mouth or laid him on a table and pinched at that pierced nipple while he fucked him. 

He'd wanted to avoid getting sexual with a prisoner. That had always been distasteful to him. But the possibility that Spy _ wanted _ it was too tempting to ignore.

*

  
  
Engineer's words echoed in Spy's mind. The way he complimented the simple nipple piercing. The attention definitely promised more pain. But the little amount of appreciation was much more than his mentor ever gave. The metal bar under Spy's nimble fingertip felt less like an embarrassing attempt to impress someone, or an embarrassing hope that his mentor might change his mind. It felt like something handsome and charming, when Spy remembered how Engineer looked at it. 

Spy's strokes were coming faster now and the hand under his shirt became a little more brave. He carefully took the bar and twisted it, twisting the nipple as well. The sensation was intense, the nipple itself ached in an incredible way that caused him to cry out and climax all at once. Spy spasmed against the wall, somehow expecting ropes to keep him up, as his legs folded. His cock continued to throb in his hand as he went down to his knees and then sat on his heels, lost in the sensations that took him over.  
  
It wasn't long after Spy came that Engineer hit his own climax. Spy gasped as he twisted at his nipple, and Engineer gave a soft groan as he finally came. 

Even after he was finished, and had cleaned himself up, Engineer ran the recording back and watched Spy cum again. Spy was thinking about him, he was sure of it. Even in bed, he couldn't stop picturing Spy twisting his nipple and stroking his cock. It took him some time to finally fall asleep.

  



	5. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Engineer has found something interesting among Spy's things, and Spy makes a hard choice.

### Chapter Day 1 - Choices

  
_ The interrogation room was only arranged for practice and training, but it was gruesome just to look at the tools arranged in the room. Some methods of torture were very elaborate and archaic, such as metal bindings to break bones, or tables to tear limbs from bodies. Some were very standard forms of punishment in prisons that used caning and flogging. _

_ The apprentice spy felt cold simply by looking at the equipment, but his mentor said nothing. He was finally prompted to speak only to interrupt the oppressive silence. “Will we use everything in this room?” _

_ The Classic Spy answered, “No, it isn’t necessary to practice enduring every form of torture.” _

_ The younger man suggested, with a clever grin, “Perhaps when I perfect my skills for escape, we can forgo torture training completely.” _

_ “What are you afraid of?” The older man asked. _ _  
_   
It wasn’t intended to embarrass his apprentice, but it did. A sensible part of the spy-in-training was afraid of being permanently maimed, or terribly hurt, but his pride was hurting in anticipation already. As the lean young man looked up at his stronger, wiser counterpart, he wasn’t afraid of pain.

_ He was afraid of being stripped down, and bent over, and sweaty, and tear-stained, and weakened under these instruments of torture. Specifically, he was afraid his mentor could never look at him with fondness if he didn’t remain strong now. _

_ The mentor interrupted his deep thoughts with a command:, “Go choose what we’ll start with.” _

*

Engineer woke as he usually did, one minute before his alarm was set to go off. He kept a rigid schedule that was similar to his cycle at Team Fortress. He found a little structure to be satisfying. Before going to see Spy, but after breakfast, he went to search the man's car, which one of the Administrator's lackeys had towed over to him. He was sure there would be plenty hidden in it, and he was determined to be thorough.  
  
Among all of Spy’s belongings brought to the bunker, he found a suitcase, with clothes, a straight razor, a book and, curiously, a metal anal plug. That immediately sent Engineer's mind back into his fantasies from the previous night last night. And into his plan for today. He would have to work this toy into that session, see how Spy reacted to it. He rolled it around in his palms. It was good quality. It had some kind of weight in it that made it incredibly pleasant to hold, like the vibrating movement of a chinese medicine ball.  
  
As he began to find hidden compartments and secret spaces, he pulled out several different IDs and passports, a lot of money from different countries and things that could only be labelled as spy gear; an odd notepad, a stack of playing cards that cut his finger when he pulled one out, a pair of dice that only rolled sevens, a small pair of binoculars, a tiny camera, and a radio.  
  
Most of it was not terribly useful for learning more about the Classic team, but it meant he knew more about Spy, and he had a few more questions to which he knew the answers. Those questions were slowly chipping away at Spy, teaching him that Engineer already knew everything he had to tell him, and that this interrogation really meant nothing except to encourage obedience.  
  
Once he was sure the car was emptied of secrets, Engineer headed down to the basement. He brought Spy a simple breakfast of toast, and he brought the anal toy he'd found, curious to see how Spy would feel, seeing it.

Engineer set Spy's toy on a table, and placed a chair facing it. 

Spy heard Engineer moving in the basement and knew what was coming. Spy stood and waited for Engineer to unlock his door and bring him into the light. He’d abandoned his slacks today and wore only his underclothes and the familiar burgundy mask of his uniform.  
  
The door opened and Spy was lead to the chair and presented a small meal. 

Engineer watched to see Spy’s expression when he saw his toy and was delighted by the change in his features before he even sat down.

Spy saw the bright reflection on the metal tear-drop and knew he was exposed before even looking closely enough to confirm it was his own toy. A chill ran through him that made his entire body numb. Somehow his body moved him to the chair and he sat down, as instructed. He held the plate with toast, but he Spy was frozen, and unable to eat.  
  
Spy tried to consider what other private materials the Texan investigated from his suitcase, but he couldn't think past the shining anal plug on the table.  
  
The rogue’s attention snapped to Engineer and focused on him. He knew his captor had a plan, and Spy was determined to find the rules and find the option that let him return to his dark room without further questioning.  
  
Engineer contained a smile, and just watched Spy blankly. He waited. Spy would eat, or nothing would happen. Yet, the plate in Spy's hands seemed forgotten. He met Engineer's gaze with increasingly desperate eyes. 

Spy’s eyes darted to the toy again and then back to Engineer before he spoke., "Where did you find that?"

Engineer raised an eyebrow but spoke with a surprisingly soft voice. "Eat your breakfast, then we'll talk." He was going to keep Spy on his toes, jumping to it whenever Engineer asked him to do anything. He had to play by the rules in order to get anything, and Engineer had no problem enforcing that. 

Even though Spy wasn't bound, and was surrounded by various possible weapons, all he could focus on was the anal plug on the table. He didn't so much as glance at the door, or the arrangement on the nearest table.

Spy watched Engineer cautiously, as if he didn't believe the instruction he was given. But when Engineer said nothing else, Spy finally obeyed. Spy forced his attention to the plate in his hands and ate the bread in silence.  
  
The silence seemed painfully uncomfortable, but only for the captive. Whenever Engineer shifted or made a sound, Spy he lowered the plate to give him his attention. He could feel the embarrassing conversation coming; it filled him with such nervous thoughts that he could not feel his stomach at all.  
  
He finished the bread while staring at his plug, blind to any tools or devices Engineer arranged around them.  
  
Engineer went to the plug and picked it up, rolling it in his hand. The weight of it shifted the a metal ball inside, rolling in the plug despite it being held still. “This is a real pretty toy you’ve got here, must’ve been real expensive. No wonder you brought it with you.”  
  
Spy's breath was in his throat as he watched his captor handle such an intimate toy.  
  
Money was nothing for his favourite piece. The teardrop shape, stem, and base, it was all a brilliant polished metal for smooth and sterile use. The size of it was large, by Spy's opinion, but incredibly rewarding to feel inside himself. The weight was perfect and satisfied a tactile sensation even in his hand.  
  
But the true treasure of this toy was how it was crafted: it was hollow, and inside its cavity lived a magnetic marble. In his hand, the marble spun around its tiny room, responding to every movement, making the toy feel alive. Inside Spy, the sensation was beyond describing. Being filled completely and overwhelmed with the vibration of this little ball spinning inside him, when he moved his hips at all.  
  
Spy attempted to pretend the toy was something innocent, "I'm sure you found many interesting things in my suitcase. This is the one that interested you?"  
  
"What have you learned about lyin' to me?" Engineer said, voice cold. He put the toy down. "That was your only anal toy.”  
  
Spy frowned, finding that Engineer's rules were becoming more firm as they continued. Engineer was not a fool, and it was clear that Spy was insulting his intelligence by attempting to fool him.  
  
Engineer gestured to one of the tables, where there was a selection of toys laid out. "Go pick two." Engineer had chosen six toys, each capable of dealing similar amounts of pain, but of very different kinds. He was curious to see what Spy would pick, and curious to see how he'd react to them.  
  
Spy inspected on the table his options and didn't need much time to go through them.

There was a long, braided leather flogger, which could give a heavy thuddy sort of pain. Engineer chose it for the interesting patterns of purple welts it left behind. 

To Spy it was not an acceptable option at all. He had scars on his back from a brutal flogging he endured many years ago in an Egyptian prison.

There was a whippy cane, which stung and left long thin red marks that eventually turned to welts. Spy frowned at it. He recognized it as the weapon of choice in the most inhumane prisons of South Asia. Survivable but terrible. 

There was a heavy metal paddle that gave the deepest pain, bruising deep into the muscle.  
Spy expected Engineer would put him over his knee again to torment him with that and he scoffed audibly. He simply refused that humiliation. 

There was a riding crop, which delivered a very exact thuddy pain. When used properly, Engineer could leave indents of even the stitching on the skin. 

The riding crop was familiar from horse riding, but Spy was always on the other side of the tool and doubted his skin could withstand it so well as a horse did.

A rubber dragon's tail whip, Engineer knew, gave the most vicious stinging bite but left very few marks. 

Spy's eyes traced the long contour of the dragon's tail with increasing fear at the length of it. To move this through the air, Engineer would be swinging his arm very hard. When his arm came down, the force in it made Spy shudder to think about it.

Lastly, there was a metal baton, thinner than the paddle, but thicker than the cane. It would leave bruises in neat lines. Spy knew it could damage him horribly, depending on Engineer's use of it. It could crack ribs and leave dangerous injuries.  
  
Spy looked back over the table, realising that he could not pick one from the group. He shook his head. " _ Non... Non_, this is—-" Hhe didn't want to say it was too much. He was a world-class spy that trained to endure torture!

Although it was a form of humiliation to make a prisoner choose his own punishments, Spy was trained to use the opportunity to his advantage and choose what he could endure. He should be glad to pick his own variety of torture for once.  
  
Engineer just raised an eyebrow. "Pick two," he repeated. "If used right, they can all do about the same amount of damage." At least, that was how Engineer intended to use them. He wasn’t going to beat his prisoner to death in the first week.

Instead, Engineer was going to use this session to find to what Spy responded best. The Texan had his own favourites to use on men. But to get what he wanted from this spy he needed to walk a delicate line and find what broke the man down without leaving him so utterly broken that he couldn’t speak.

Personally, if Engineer was forced to choose the tools used on his own arse, he'd pick one of the thuddier toys, he'd always preferred that to sharp pain. He could withstand a lot more deep bruising than he could that bright stinging, when he and his cousins made fools of themselves experimenting with these things. Of course, he didn’t provide any advice.  
  
"If you don't choose two, I'll be using _ all _ of them, so it's in your best interest to pick your favourites." Engineer warned.  
  
Spy hissed, "Favourites?"  
  
The dilemma was not to take his favourites. The anal toy that Spy took care to pack safely and bring with him was a favourite. The toys Engineer put on the table were detestable weapons.  
  
Spy let his eyes fall over the weapons again and dismissed the most frightening—the baton, and the dragon's tail. The most personally objected—the metal paddle and the cane. And the most painful—the flogger and the riding crop.  
  
Again he had nothing to choose from. Spy stared in silence, trying to determine his decision. When he heard Engineer move again he turned around to be sure his captor was not coming to collect him. "I cannot make this decision."  
  
"I'm gonna give you thirty more seconds," Engineer said, and by the tone of his voice, it was clear he thought he was being lenient.  
  
Spy shook his head. "_Non_, you gave me an impossible task! Look at this, what you're asking me to decide!" He was speaking faster as the words came out, as he did when his cool façade began to slip and expose someone more fearful.  
  
Engineer was clearly unsympathetic, possibly enjoying this, and Spy turned his attention to the table again. He needed to choose something, and even if he chose the two worst tools on the table, it was better than to be punished by those tools and each other tool also. Spy reached out and closed his hands around the whippy cane and the riding crop and picked them up. He chose them, but as he held them and inspected them in his hands, he was not sure he liked his choice.  
  
Engineer looked them over, then nodded. "That’s your pick?" he confirmed. He was in a darker area of the room to bring forward a rolling piece of equipment. He let Spy hold and fret over the tools he was holding just a little longer while he rolled out a spanking bench into the center of the room, under the blinding lights.  
  
He nudged the brake down on each of the wheels so it wouldn't go anywhere while he beat Spy. The bench itself was hard and unwelcoming wood, with a place for Spy's knees to rest and above that a place for his upper body to rest. The chest support place was a bit lower, raising the subject’s ass up on display. It would put him at an ideal height for Engineer to hit him.  
  
Spy's nearly trembled., "Engineer," he tried to sound calm and charming and convincing, "This isn't necessary. I was trained for torture, and this..." It was more attention than Spy wanted to have on his exposed backside.  
  
Engineer loved hearing the tiny quaver in Spy's voice as he practically begged not to be put on the hard bench. Engineer just patted the bench, nodding Spy over. "Come on now, it ain't gonna be so bad. And hand those over." He held out a hand for the toys Spy had picked.  
  
Engineer's warm southern accent and calm tone whereas almost enough to call Spy forward. But he hesitated long enough to break that spell.  
  
Spy turned his back on Engineer and faced his table full of tools again. "_Non_, this is fine!" he assured Engineer. Spy put the riding crop and the cane on the table and then bent forward to rest his elbows on the table. "I’ll remain here, on my feet. You will find that this position is more than effective enough."  
  
Engineer's voice turned cold and hard. "You haven't learned a damn thing, have you, boy?" He was at Spy's side in a few quick steps, and the gunslinger closed around his wrist, twisting it up behind his back painfully. He pulled Spy away from the table and shoved him towards the bench, releasing him so he had a chance to climb up on it by himself.  
  
Spy hit the bench when Engineer pushed him forward. In that first contact he felt how hard and sturdy the bench was. Spy mounted the bench and found his position without guidance.

Although Engineer knew the spy was trained for many varieties of abuse and torture, he’d probably never endured so much focus on his ass. But now that Engineer had watched him cry from a spanking, he knew it was an effective target. The next question was only to determine which tool resulted in the desired effect.

Ignoring Spy momentarily, Engineer picked up one of the two toys Spy had selected. It would be the riding crop first.  
  
Spy was nervous to see the crop swishing in the air in Engineer's hand.

Engineer stroked a hand over Spy’s backside, then tugged his briefs down around his knees, appreciating the subtle tremble of the lean naked thighs, and the beauty of the tattoo of a bouquet of roses over his upper thigh. The hand went back to his ass, rubbing the bare skin now. He took the riding crop and ran the end of it over Spy’s ass, gentle and slow, just tracing lines over him.

Spy shifted, uncomfortably aware of every touch. He looked up for any other thing to distract him from the attention on his ass. But the bench only allowed him to look up into the blinding bright light, or below that to the table of instruments that he was too frightened of to choose.

He looked over his shoulder to the Engineer instead to study his expression for any hesitation, but his captor appeared very confident and willing to use the riding crop.

Spy swallowed and suggested, “I’ll let you get a few good strokes against me, something to make up for our years at each other's throats, in the Gravel Pit. And then, let us shake hands and part ways, Engineer.”

His thin hands gripped the edge of the bench tightly in anticipation for those strokes.

Spy’s suggestion drew a laugh out of Engineer. “You’re serious, ain’t you?” He grinned. “You should know that ain’t happening. You’re _ stuck _ with me.”

After a few fast, soft taps he began to let the flexible shaft of the riding crop do the real work, snapping through the air to hit Spy with the hard leather tip. It left little red squares across his skin, and Engineer knew most of them would turn to bruises after a day or so. The first stroke was the hardest, a mockery of Spy’s suggestion. After that, he let them crescendo from a more tolerable level up to something far more painful. 

Spy kept his eyes on Engineer and used great self control to not wince, but instead glare at the answer he received. As the strokes layered up, however, it became harder to hold his expression unchanged. Spy turned his head forward and bit a knuckle to hold back sounds.

Spy wasn't going to accept ‘stuck together’ as the end of the discussion. But he wasn't a fool to pick a fight with someone beating his ass.

During a break in the rhythm, Spy released a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He looked back at Engineer again and saw the cause for the break—the riding crop was traded for the cane.

Spy pushed up onto his hands and twisted his hips to hide his prone end from the weapon. “Wait! Let’s stop for a cigarette! Even a man facing execution is given a cigarette!”

Engineer struck the cane down, hitting the tattooed roses that wrapped around to the side of Spy’s thigh. “You sure you deserve one tonight?” he asked, though his voice had a bit of a teasing tone to it. “Alright, twenty strokes and you can have one,” he conceded.

The Frenchman studied his counterpart very suspiciously and lowered himself down to the bench again.

Engineer proceeded to count out each snap of the cane in his mind, and made sure each stinging bite of it hurt more than the last. His aim was near perfect and each time the thin toy came down on the same place, leaving a bright red line across Spy’s ass.

Spy's back arched up with every stroke, a little more as the pain built up. If the bench wasn't in place, holding his hips still with no place to lean away, Spy would be crawling forward to get away from the abuse.

He gritted his teeth together to endure the sharp pain first, and then he held his breath, afraid that if he let the smallest bit of air escape him, it would escape as a whimper. The whimper escaped anyway and after that, ragged breaths threatened to spill out. He tried to disguise it by gritting his teeth and growling through the pain, desperate to save his composure.

After twenty strokes, Engineer went to one of the tables and grabbed a pack of cigarettes. He put it between his lips to light it, drew on it, then offered it to Spy.

Spy was limp on the bench and breathing heavily but silently. The red stripe on his ass was more than just fresh, it felt as if the caning was still continuing. The cold air of the basement didn’t do enough to soothe the sharp pain.

He was grateful for the cigarette and took it as eagerly as a thirsty man takes water. He brought it to his lips and took a slow drag before sighing, “_Merci_,” in a breath of smoke. He was feeding his nicotine habit now, rather than his oral fixation and nervous chewing.

Once Spy had taken a few slow breaths and calmed down slightly, Engineer drew back the cane and flicked it over that same spot again.

Spy arched his back up again and gave a muffled whimper. “You said twenty strokes and then a cigarette!” Spy hissed around his unfinished cigarette. One of Spy's hands moved back, gently massaging the area with the back of his hand, and ready to catch the stinging cane if it came again.

“I said you could have a cigarette, I didn’t say you’d get to have a break at the same time.” Engineer shrugged, smacking Spy’s hand away from his ass.

Spy twisted his hips to hide from the cane and then stood up from the bench entirely. This was the first session without any bondage, and Spy let himself free.

“I'll take my cigarette back to my room,.” Spy said firmly, very serious for a man with his briefs sliding down his knees to his ankles now.

The gunslinger closed around Spy’s wrist, jerking him closer. Engineer took the cigarette from between his lips and turned it on his captive. He pressed the hot cherry into Spy’s shoulder, then tossed the cigarette to the ground.

Spy hissed at the pain and glared to meet Engineer's hard authority. He was angry to lose his cigarette, hard earned with twenty strokes of the cane in one spot. He was angry to have a fresh burn on his shoulder.

But he had tested the limits to know where they were. And now he knew.  
  
Engineer’s voice was cold. “Get back on the bench.”

Spy reluctantly obeyed and positioned himself on the bench again. He adjusted to seek a comfortable position, but he went to the same position he was in earlier, with his ass raised up.

Engineer’s strokes with the cane became less and less forgiving, until finally Spy was feeling the true biting snap of it across his ass. He continued to focus on the same area. There would be a wicked bruise there when they were done.

Engineer’s irritation faded as he took it out on Spy. The captive man’s shouts through gritted teeth weakened into pained whimpers.

His goal was subspace, not just brute force. When the questions finally came again, he planned for his prisoner to be in that talkative state of mind. Valuable answers would slip through without him noticing.

But Spy did not like what it took to get to that mental state. He twisted his hips a little, or tried to tuck his ass, or crawl up the bench. But Engineer’s aim always found its target and every punishing blow only layered on top of previous abuse. He eventually stopped squirming but gave in to soft cries of pain.

When the crop was whistling in the air it was making red squares that would definitely be welts later, but the Spy endured it all without a sound. Every stroke with the cane made Spy whimper and press close to the unforgiving bench, which did not allow any escape.  
  
Switching back and forth between the two instruments of torture randomly, Engineer kept Spy on his toes. Once he was bright red and had a smattering of dark welts, Engineer stopped to run the cold gunslinger over his hot skin. “There you go,” he murmured.  
  
SpyHe arched his back as the cold metal settled on his red skin. " _ Salope _ ," he cursed breathlessly. The weight was not welcome but the cold touch was, and he relaxed down to the bench while relaxing his ass into the palm of the gunslinger.  
  
“Like that, hm?” Engineer gave a soft laugh. “Little masochist.” He liked the view of the Frenchman’s small round ass settling into his own palm and he resisted the urge to squeeze it, or part him open.

Spy shook his head. “_Pas de tout, sadiste_.”

“Ya’ll been trained for a beating like that?” Engineer asked, whispering into Spy's ear. "Don't suppose there's a school for spies," he teased. “S’pose it just comes naturally to a spy. And you’ve been a spy as long as I’ve been an engineer, I reckon.” Engineer easily did most of the talking. Sharing some of himself with Spy would make this feel more natural, more like a real conversation and less like an extraction of information. "I learned a lot of it at school, but mostly I learned from my daddy." 

The prisoner took a moment to compose himself but answered with amusement, "_Non, _ no school for spies.” He knew Engineer's long family history in Mann Co. But Spy had a connection to Mann Co. also, and he was glad to boast, "I learned from the best. My mentor is the Classic team's Spy." With a proud smile he added, "He is maybe the best in the world." 

_ ‘Is.' _  
  
There was no denying it. Although the Classic Team was officially retired, Spy knew with certainty that his mentor was still actively a spy.  
  
Engineer grinned. He was glad Spy had taken the bait there, and had appreciated the humorous question. "No wonder you were such a pain in my ass," Engineer retorted, "if you got to learn from the best." Spy clearly had great pride in having learned from the Classic Spy, and had much more than a professional adoration for him.  
  
The Texan remained casual and didn’t bring attention to how pleased he was with the information he gleaned. "Do you still see him?"  
  
“If I didn’t miss my jet, I would be seeing him now,” Spy answered with a little bitterness in his tone to remind them both how displeased he was with this captivity.  
  
He almost wondered if his mentor made any attempt to contact him by his watch. Spy wouldn't know about it, after Engineer took the watch from him. But it didn't matter who had the watch; Spy doubted his mentor would look for him.  
  
After all, there were only ever two options when a spy went missing: betrayal, or capture. Clever spies simply never went looking for a missing spy. His mentor wouldn't come looking for him. 

Engineer asked a few more questions, but Spy’s answers became more and more vague as he lost focus. It wasn’t long before Engineer decided he wasn’t going to be any more use, and put him back in his cell for the rest of the day and all night.


	6. Praise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things get a little more sexual

_ “Good,” the Classic Spy stated. His expression was hidden behind a balaclava, and his one eye was hidden behind a night-vision monocular. He never mentioned whether it was the custom monocular or his visible penetrating grey eye that gave him the code-name Falcon Eye. _ _  
_  
_Very few people called the Classic Spy by his code name. His team, the enemy, and the Administrator all called him by his title, Spy._

_ His apprentice liked to imagine himself inheriting that title some day. There was a certain allure to being so skilled as to become the definition of an entire class. Sometimes it felt like an impossible standard. But on days like this, when the Classic Spy nodded his head and said, “Good,” becoming the greatest spy in the world and inheriting that class title seemed more and more possible. _

*

“Spy.” Engineer greeted his captive when he collected him again. 

The captive considered that it was generous for the Texan to continue addressing him by his previous class name. After everything he’d done to earn the title of Spy, he disliked being called anything else.

The shining metal plug sat on the table in front of him, and tools were there as well. 

Engineer released him and directed him to the table, telling him, again, to choose two.

Spy approached the table, understanding the routine after the previous night. But Engineer surprised him again.

The table had four tools for Spy to choose from. The four tools he’d avoided on the previous session.

Engineer's threat to use all of the tools was unavoidable, Spy realized. The command to choose which tool was used on him was only an illusion of choice.

Spy fisted his hands and glared at his options and then turned his glare onto Engineer. He wanted to refuse to play along with this game. He could turn and challenge Engineer, or stand stubbornly still. 

Engineer only raised a brow and smiled.

Engineer had proved he was strong enough to position his prisoner as he liked if Spy didn’t cooperate. As the man kept reminding him, it was easier for Spy if he simply played along. The lean man gritted his teeth and picked up something. It didn't matter what he chose, his only decision was what pain he faced now, and what pain he faced later.

Spy turned to face him again with a flogger and the metal paddle in his fists.

Engineer smiled wider, though the expression was not friendly. 

The Frenchman approached the shorter, but broader, man. Despite looking down to meet his eyes, he felt very small as he presented the two tools with his hands forward.

Engineer took the flogger first. He gestured Spy up and onto the spanking bench, waiting for him to assume the position.

Spy followed the silent command without complaint this time. The cigarette burn on his shoulder was a small blister but a constant reminder of where the boundaries were. He lowered his briefs to his knees, knowing what Engineer planned.

“Shirt too,” Engineer directed.

Spy looked at the younger man very resentfully then. 

The expression was surprising to Engineer, but he waited for the other to obey. 

The European pulled the thin undershirt up over his head, and down his arms and lowered his naked chest down again. Without the shirt countless more scars were exposed.

A scar near one kidney matched a similar scar on his stomach, showing the path of a spear that passed through him. A knife wound touched his spine from an apparent encounter with an assassin of his own. The black cat on his shoulder appeared to cling to him and hiss at the Texan. Three bullets scarred Spy’s shoulder; one scar replaced the eye of the cat.

One old tattoo on his back was almost gone entirely, with many layers of white scars from a savage whipping biting into the skin and defacing the image.

Engineer looked over his scars, reaching out a hand to trace them with his fingertips, bringing a sharp gasp from Spy. Spy had experience with flogging, apparently. Though likely with a very different kind of flogger, or a different kind of jailer. No matter how hard Engineer hit him with this one, it couldn’t draw blood unless he persisted in hitting him so hard for a long time.

The resentful look Spy made earlier gave him an oddly uncomfortable feeling now. No wonder Spy had balked at choosing a toy; even the ones that Engineer considered more merciful were possibly all used to torture this rogue at some point in his life.

But he couldn’t feel remorse. He couldn’t feel pity. Spy was his captive. He was _ here _ to torture the man. Compassion didn’t make any sense here. He stuffed those feelings down and tightened his grip on the flogger. 

Beyond the scars, focusing more on Spy’s ass, Engineer was enjoying the view. The stripe from the caning he’d received was still there, only it had turned a dark shade of purple. Engineer couldn’t help but run a finger over it, putting just enough pressure to hurt. 

Spy's hips jerked forward and hit the hard edge of the bench. He whimpered at the attention, and was relieved when the hard finger left his tender skin.

Engineer let the falls of the flogger run over Spy’s back and down over his ass, not swinging it yet, only touching Spy with it. He stroked an old tattoo of a Russian word, _ пе́дик_, at the base of Spy’s back, above one cheek. The lean man jerked his hips to shake off the touch, emphasizing his action with a deep grunt.

He leaned in close over Spy. “Did you think about that toy of yours last night?” He knew very well that Spy hadn’t masturbated. Engineer had watched and waited, but he assumed the punishment had been too much for him. Spy wasn’t a masochist. He needed more attention than pain to be in that sexual state of mind. Part of Engineer desperately wanted to see that again, to make tonight different, possibly better, for Spy.

Spy put his forehead on the hard wooden surface. “_Oui_.” He knew there was no way Engineer could know if he was lying if he said no. Yet, Engineer always knew, somehow. 

The flogger’s falls stayed gentle on his ass for now, still stroking. "Do you want it in you?"  
  
Spy nearly choked. He looked over his shoulder at Engineer. He looked away before he answered, unable to meet the man’s gaze, almost trembling under the stroking flogger. "Yes."  
  
Engineer had honestly not been sure what Spy’s answer would be, but he was glad it was this. His question had even surprised himself. He took a small bottle of lube and slicked up the toy. Spy wouldn’t need to be opened up for it; Engineer was sure he could just take it. Even though the urge to work him open with his fingers was a huge temptation.  
  
With one hand on Spy’s ass cheek, Engineer used the other to slide the plug home.

Spy gasped and held his breath as he felt the cool metal opening his tight ring of muscle. He had been honest when he answered. Just seeing his favourite toy left a longing to feel it. But he hadn’t expected his captor to make use of it, or do anything but torment him.

There was a terrible risk of Engineer using it to humiliate him and hurt him. But with no other choices, Spy sank down to his elbows to allow the toy to settle into his body. He started to groan cautiously as the widest point spread him open. Engineer was interested in settling the toy into place more than teasing him open, or possibly thought the size of it was easier to receive than it really was.

Spy accepted it past the widest point with a brief whine. “There,” Engineer murmured, touching the wide base of the toy, brushing his fingers over sensitive skin. Engineer was half hard just from that.  
  
When his body closed around it and pulling the entire tear drop into his body, the metal marble nearly sang, and Spy melted down to put his chest flat on the bench again with a meaningful but wordless moan.  
  
Spy’s heartfelt moan went straight to Engineer’s cock. He wanted to hear that sound again. He wanted to _ force _ those sounds out of Spy.  
  
Engineer picked up the flogger, and this time his strokes were harder. Not violent, but hard enough to warm Spy’s skin and make his ass a nice pink colour. After a few dozen strokes, he swapped it out for the metal paddle, letting Spy feel the heavy thud of it over his ass and down the exposed backs of his thighs.  
  
He asked no questions yet, curious to see if Spy would beg for them again, or if he’d simply endure this treatment with that handsome toy filling him. So far his force was not unreasonable and he was sure if he continued this way, Spy would be brought into subspace.  
  
Engineer's gentle pace was probably similar to when he spanked Spy over his knee. But the use of the anal toy made this a completely different experience. Or maybe, Spy was simply a little more resilient when he wasn’t bent over another man’s knees.  
  
Every gentle stroke of the flogger and the cold metal slap of the paddle caused the marble to roll in small circles inside of the plug. The toy was motionless, but alive inside of Spy's body. Spy felt his arse becoming warm. He was sure the black outlines of five roses tattooed on his thigh had pink colour blooming inside them. But he didn't protest. Every stroke was soothed by the reminder of his toy inside him.

The paddle was heavy, and Engineer knew if he used his full strength—or even half of his strength—he could do more than bruising damage. He was careful to aim only for the most padded areas of Spy, his ass and the back of his thighs. This was not the sort of toy to hit someone with across the back unless he wanted to cripple his prisoner. 

With the flogger, he could strike Spy across the back and shoulders, and he did, but only after slowly warming him up there too. He was almost satisfied when there were splayed red lines across his skin. This flogger was remarkably heavy—the leather was braided together—but it only left tiny purple welts where the tips of it snapped into his skin. It never broke the skin. It would not leave scars, the way Spy had experienced before.

The paddle left deep bruises that bloomed under the skin. They’d show their colours properly the next day. Engineer paid special attention to the place the cane had left a bruise as well, making sure to hit that as often as he could.

Spy reacted under every blow, but knew not to get up from the bench this time. He was relieved that even when the flogger pounded his skin, it never bit into his flesh. And the metal paddle stayed on the meaty bottom of his ass and thighs. It was hard to truly be grateful for a beating, but he was glad Engineer was taking care where he hit. For that mercy, Spy felt compelled to perform for Engineer and behave properly.

He held still on the bench and resisted the urge to twist his hips. He bit back curses, or attempts to bargain with his captor. And despite his own self-pride, when he felt tears sting his eyes, he let them fall.

Somehow, Engineer's praise at the end of that session was sweeter that night, and Spy mumbled through a brief conversation as they waited for him to catch his breath and dry his tears.

That night, Spy stood in the small, private corner of his cell. He was carefully tilting his hips forward to avoid touching his very tender ass to the rough wall. The time with his anal toy was exciting, but too brief to be satisfying. Spy cupped his cock and balls in one hand and slid his other hand between his thighs, stretching his fingers to find his entrance.

He was still slick from the generous quantity of lubricant Engineer used. And he was still relaxed and easy to open up. Spy rolled his head back against the wall and worked his fingers through his body slowly, simply to enjoy that sensation of being touched inside.

He thought of Engineer, cupping his ass cheek with the cold and hard gunslinger, and petting over the welts with his warm hand.

The praise was the hardest part to keep out of his mind. That smooth Southern voice could pierce directly to his core and make him feel remarkably proud. Engineer's voice convinced him he earned the praise, as if it was his choice to endure the abuse and the punishments.

Spy saw the danger there. He was worryingly close to letting Engineer hurt him worse, only to earn that praise.


	7. Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though this chapter is called the finale, it is not, don't worry.
> 
> We get a lot more sexual in this one.
> 
> Sorry it's so late!

_  
The young and handsome French spy, still in training, sat with as much grace and pride as he could while his training sought to wear him down to nothing. _

_ His cheeks were red and the curve of his prominent cheekbones were bruising darkly. The burning heat in his skin made his entire body feel hot, and it was challenging to focus on the information he was ordered to remember. _

_“Bosnia,” his mentor stated, waiting for the name of who was in charge._

_The apprentice remembered studying it and answered quickly enough, “Radovan Karadzic.” No sooner had he said the name than he winced. It was the truth, but the truth was top secret. As far as anyone in the public knew, Miroslav Lajčák ruled Bosnia._  
  
_The mentor sighed with disappointment. He didn’t need to explain his pupil’s mistake to him. Keeping one’s wits during torture was important, but spilling out a top-secret truth because it was the first thing that came to mind was the kind of sloppy work that could start wars. “Again,” the man finally said after a pause._

_ The young spy’s body became tense and he closed his eyes, steeling himself for the hard blows against his hot face again. _ **  
  
**

*

Engineer leaned on the table as he watched Spy eat. His elbow rested on a small television screen. 

Spy certainly noticed it, but he didn’t show any interest. Spy ate in silence. The meals were small. Of course, Spy did not eat much, and he had no reason to be very hungry. He was not very active as a prisoner. In his little room he exercised only to fight off boredom.

“This is becoming a routine,” Spy commented—critically, dangerously close to calling his captor predictable.

“I don’t think so,” Engineer answered, humorously.

“I thought you might do more to keep things interesting.” He eyed the plug on the table and the two remaining punishment implements.

“I saw something that interested me last night." Engineer patted the television, turning it on and letting Spy watch. Though the night-vision camera was not vivid, and the screen was grainy and grey, it was plain to see Spy in the ‘hidden’ corner, pumping his cock. They both watched as Spy teased his own stretched opening and savoured the lingering memory of his toy.  
  
The Frenchman sat frozen and let Engineer show him the video, knowing now that the red dot was not the only camera. And also knowing Engineer had watched him toy with his own nipple piercing.  
  
Spy was suddenly very grateful for the balaclava that hid his cheeks. He rarely blushed. His great experience made him comfortable in nearly any situation. But this was too much. Spy's face felt hot under the mask.  
  
"Turn it off. I was there, I remember it," Spy demanded desperately.  
  
Engineer let it keep playing as the recording showed exactly how much Spy liked to spread himself open. He liked watching Spy squirm under his gaze, struggling to watch the video and struggling to look away at the same time.  
  
"What was it about that night, hm?" Engineer asked. Both of them were thinking of the first night, it didn’t need to be specified. His voice was quiet, as though they might be overheard. "Was it this?" He touched Spy's nipple through his thin undershirt, rolling it between his fingers and tugging gently at the piercing.

Even this gentle teasing forced Spy to bite his lip and hold down any sounds. The moment Engineer released the bit of flesh, he covered it with his hand.

"Or maybe not, since you were hard so quickly once you felt that violet wand." He stroked the red spot the violet wand had left on Spy's shoulder, visible around the black cat tattoo. "Was that it? The pain?” 

He shivered as the hand traveled over the tattoo. 

Spy asked himself these same questions as he pumped his cock in his cell that night. He didn't know why he had been so hard throughout a truly challenging torture session. He didn't know why he was so excited by the attention Engineer gave to his nipple. 

“And last night, you missed that toy in you, didn’t you?” Engineer practically growled.

"No. It was nothing," Spy insisted. "I was out of my mind, I reacted instinctively. It isn't going to happen again." The last sentence was like a swear to himself.

"I guess we'll see how honest that is, won't we?” He released Spy, heading over to the table with the wicked tools on it. There were only two left: the dragon-tail whip and the metal baton. The tools Spy had refused so far. He picked up the dragon-tail whip, letting the length of it fall gently over his own hand. “Get on the spanking bench,” he directed.

Spy shivered at the sight of the whip uncoiling. The whip looked heavy and slick. It probably had a very pleasant weight in Engineer’s hands, and would be a terrible pain against Spy’s skin.

Spy set down his plate from breakfast and positioned himself on the bench again after lowering his briefs to his knees. He held the material of his undershirt in his hands and looked to Engineer for direction on that, a hopeful expression in his eyes asking that his captor give him that piece of dignity.

Engineer nodded, letting him keep his shirt. An actual whip across those scars might not send Spy into the subspace he wanted. He’d focus on the man’s relatively un-scarred ass instead. 

He had to stand a short distance away from Spy to be able to use the tip of the dragon tail correctly. When he swung, it cracked across Spy’s skin with a loud smack, leaving a small red mark. Engineer had good control of this weapon. Only the tip hit Spy’s skin, making sharp biting sensations instead of a softer strike with the entire length of it; the tip travelled far faster than the rest of the toy, making it sting so much more.

Spy wondered if this was only the warm up to the whip, but it was hard to imagine it hurting more than this. It was louder than any of the other weapons, making him jump slightly with each crack. And the sting it caused was so much sharper than anything yet. Every whipping toy so far had started with a sting that became a spreading numbness, but this lingered in that stinging spot forever.

Engineer knew that he was not starting off easy with this toy, as he usually liked to. But the dragon tail was not for warm ups, it either was ineffective and flopped, or it snapped. He expected to enjoy going immediately to hurting his prisoner, but after two dozen strikes, he put a hand over Spy’s red skin, rubbing and stroking him.

The prisoner’s head was bowed to hide his tears, and he was crying quietly. But the tension left his muscles as Engineer’s broad hand stroked him. 

The warmth of his lean backside was screaming pain to Spy, but begging for more to Engineer.

The baton was a hard toy to warm up with as well. When he traded over to it, he had to hit very carefully, again just hitting the parts of Spy that were most removed from any bones or organs he could damage. Slowly, he began to hit harder. Though the metal paddle had been hard and bruising, the weight of it had been spread out and it had been far less capable of really breaking something. The whippy cane was too stingy, too light. This weapon was one that could do real harm in the hands of someone who wanted to. 

Instead, Engineer handled it expertly, leaving deep, penetrating bruises—so deep that they were blooming under the skin in yellow and red, not quite ready to turn purple. They would ache all week.

Spy groaned with each impact. He wasn’t sure if it was a relief that Engineer switched tools. Minutes ago, Spy was certain that anything was better than the dragon's tail. The horrible sting of that whip was still fresh and didn't fade at all. It seemed like the baton would have the same result, but with deep bruises.

His red roses were becoming more colourful now, a living and blooming bouquet tattooed and beaten into Spy's thigh.

Engineer stopped for a time, placing both toys on the table and picking up the anal plug again. He let the heavy toy roll over his palm. “You want this again, don’t you?”

Spy nodded, unable to speak without letting his voice break.

It took Engineer no time at all to pour lubricant on the toy and press it into Spy’s body. He resisted a groan of satisfaction as he watched the tight hole open up and stretch thin before closing up tightly around the stem. He couldn’t help imagining opening Spy up himself, with his fingers, with his cock.

Spy started to relax again and the tension rolled out of his shoulders and neck and spine. He was desperate for this small distraction from the pain. The vulnerability of letting the enemy penetrate him didn't occur to him anymore. This was a small pleasure he was allowed to have.

Spy was resting his cheek on the bench, and except for white knuckles gripping the edge, he appeared relaxed.

Wiping the lube from his hand, Engineer picked up the dragon tail again. This time he stood at the side of the spanking bench, nearly in front of Spy. The thin rubber whip was brought back. It hit Spy’s hip first, with its middle, then wrapped around Spy’s ass to deliver an incredibly sharp blow to where he’d already been hit with both baton and dragon tail. Wrapping a whip around something made the tip move much faster, and the pain of it was hot and sharp all at once.

Spy's hips bucked forward, as if the wave of the whip traveled up his spine. He shouted, but his own cry of pain and alarm was interrupted by a moan. His jerking hips set the marble inside his plug spinning in wide fast circles and his toy felt as if it vibrated from the intensity of the whip.

Engineer paused just for a moment, watching Spy buck and moan and seem to both hate and love what the whip and the plug were doing to him. He continued to strike him with the dragon tail wrapping around his hip, hitting him in two places. It was a cruel treatment. 

He had to switch sides on the bench, standing on Spy’s other side, in order to get the opposite side of his ass. The marks went from small and bright pink to red triangle shapes. He continued using the dragon tail, wrapping it cruelly every time. Every time, Spy’s hips snapped and let Engineer imagine what it would be like to fuck him hard from behind.

The constant pressure and stimulation to his prostate did a strange thing to the deep bite of the dragon's tail. It became lost in the aura of arousal, and let pleasure leak through him. On the surface, his skin stung horribly, but pleasure bloomed up from underneath.

His cock was becoming hard and was pressing against the unpleasant surface of the bench, begging for attention.

Lost in his mind, Spy looked up at the dominant man standing beside him with embarrassment regarding his predicament.

Engineer caught the look on Spy’s face and chuckled. He took one last snap at Spy’s ass, then put the toy down. He ran the gunslinger over Spy’s bruised, red, and very abused ass, gentling him and soothing the hot skin. 

When the cold metal stroked Spy’s skin, he realised how much damage he‘d taken. His backside was aching deeply and the gunslinger was like a relief.  
  
Spy looked back at the weapon. The gunslinger was a terrifying threat in battle. He had been caught by it rarely, when escaping a sapped sentry. In those times, he was turned to giblets and sent to respawn. He knew the metal hand well, and he knew to fear it. Even now, he watched it cautiously, in case Engineer swung the gunslinger back to spank him. But while it stroked him softly he was grateful.  
  
Spy carefully reached his own, much slimmer and tapered hand, to gently stroke the welts that wrapped around him.  
  
Engineer watched Spy’s hand wander over his welt-covered ass, pleased to watch him explore the hard work. He sat on the bench next to Spy, and pulled the man into his lap, Spy’s back against his chest. Although Spy was a much taller man than Engineer, his lean frame made him easy to move. 

Spy resisted with a weak fight, however, and tried to hold himself to the bench.

He sat his sensitive ass against the rough material of Engineer’s jeans and felt Engineer’s cock press against him. The rough trousers made the burn return to Spy’s abused skin.  
  
Engineer stroked his hand over Spy’s chest, unable to resist sneaking under his shirt to play with his nipples. “Those toys weren’t so bad now were they?” he chuckled, rolling Spy’s nipple between finger and thumb. “You took them real good,” he praised.  
  
The words gentled him and he stopped struggling, understanding that the abuse was over. It was almost hard to believe. Everything after the plug was inserted was a dizzy fog. He was lost in the moment and thought it might go forever.  
  
Nonetheless, Engineer praised him and drunk pride joined the dizzy mixture in his mind.

Spy squirmed on Engineer's lap between the sensation of the welts, the fingers rolling his nipple, the warm praise soaking into him, and the erection he tried to hide under his own palm. "I—" Spy panted breathlessly. "It was nothing," he answered casually. In truth, it was certainly the most extreme abuse he was ever made to endure.  
  
Engineer kept Spy right against his chest, sure that the man might slip off if released. Spy was weak, his muscles loose. Engineer was sure he was in subspace now. He was so tempted to reach down and wrap his hand around Spy's erection, give him a few teasing strokes. Make him beg for more, maybe. He resisted. Still playing with Spy's nipples, one after the other, he pressed his nose in against the back of Spy's neck, breathing against him softly. His gunslinger drifted down under Spy's thigh, keeping the cool metal against his hot and hurting skin.  
  
"How're you feeling?" he checked. Spy's answer would be telling as to his mental state. Engineer rolled a few other questions around in his mind, trying to weigh them against each other. He wondered which questions Spy would be most likely to answer, and which sounded most casual.  
  
The question was difficult to answer, but not because Spy didn't want to answer it. Spy was filled with an incredible energy, like the thrill after a team victory. However, there was no denying the incredible pain running down his backside. He finally decided the pain was not enough to outweigh the excitement.  
  
Spy finally answered, "_Très bon. _ I am getting better at playing this game of yours, Engineer." Spy unfortunately believed it. He had no idea what game Engineer was playing with him.  
  
"You are," Engineer agreed, twisting his nipple a little harder now. He kept the gunslinger gentle, but shifted it just slightly, making sure Spy was aware of it under him. His thigh parted Spy’s legs slightly, and he pressed the plug in a little deeper.

Spy squirmed slowly between each starkly different sensation: The cold, hard metal of the gunslinger on his hot welts, the roll of the toy inside him, and the calloused fingers touching his nipples. One of his hands rested flat on his cock, trying to will it down. The other hand rested on Engineer's flesh hand, cautious of the attention.  
  
Keeping Spy's body and mind awash with different sensations to keep him distracted, Engineer began to ask his questions. "What did you do before TFI?"  
  
Spy answered with a foggy mind, "I spied. I spied in France, I spied in the far East, I spied in Australia. Wherever my skills were required." Spy's words trailed off as Engineer's fingers toyed with the metal piercing again.

“That’s why you were headin’ down to Australia, I reckon,” Engineer asked. Spy's shirt was just getting in the way now and Engineer pulled it up and over Spy's head, exposing the tapestry etched into his back.

Though the colourful history of Spy's scars and tattoos fascinated Engineer, now was not the time to ask about them. Spy was guarded when it came to those scars, and he wanted the man relaxed. He put Spy's back against his chest again and ignored the tattoos.

He could see how swollen and tender his nipples were now, from the attention last night and the current stroking and teasing. But Spy didn't protest the treatment.

“Yes. The Classics are rather busy, these days. My mentor didn’t mind that I offered my services.”

"Busy? I'd think they'd all be retired by now," Engineer said, stroking his fingers over Spy's nipple, far more gently now. "They've gotta be pretty ancient at this point." His gunslinger slid further under Spy, prodding at his welts, causing the man to writhe.  
  
Spy muttered critically, "One wonders what you think is 'old.' I have more than a few years on you… " Yet he answered the younger man’s curiosity. "I was assured they won't need to worry about aging."  
  
Engineer knew the classic team must be in Australia for access to the Australium. It was the most valuable resource in that otherwise-barren desert. But, if they had something like Redmond and Blutarch’s Australium drips, not only would the classic team be immune to aging, they would also be stronger and smarter than they ever were before.

He had the information he needed for the Administrator. But he didn’t want this night to end quite yet. He toyed with the end of the plug, his other hand still tormenting Spy’s nipple.

"Engineer, you're going to make me embarrass myself if you do that!" He made a weak attempt to untangle himself from his captor.  
  
"Maybe I'd like that," Engineer admitted. Though he knew he should be focused on the interrogation, getting the Administrator her information and finishing off her prisoner, he couldn't help wanting to indulge in the handsome, naked spy squirming in his lap. 

Engineer took the plug more securely in his fingers and slowly turned it in Spy's body. He leaned the weight of his hand on the base, first in one direction, then the other, seeing which side got more of a reaction from Spy.  
  
Spy closed his fingers around his cock and squeezed it from the base to the tip. The toy was nice, but the actual movement, provided by a real participant, was more than he could ask for. But he forced himself to release his cock and tenderly pointed it downward as if he could order it to become flaccid again.

Engineer enjoyed watching Spy fondle himself and tried not to let his disappointment show when he stopped. Again, he restrained himself from reaching down and stroking Spy himself. Instead he twisted his nipple, tormenting the over-sensitive nub ruthlessly. 

"What of the video?" Spy asked. He doubted that Engineer had shown it to him only to let him see the collection. "Are you tempting me, only to punish me if I pleasure myself?" Spy rolled his hips down onto the toy inside him."Are you collecting blackmail?"

Engineer had shown him the video just to see Spy's reaction. He’d never had a captive spy who responded like this before. Watching Spy’s erection throb and watching him touch himself was feeding a deep, dark need.

"I wanted to see how you'd react, once we both knew our little scenes excite you. I wondered if you'd want that plug in you while I hurt you. I wondered if you would touch yourself again… knowing I’m watching," he said, suggestively. Maybe he was being too honest, but the words were coming too easily. Spy's hips rolled and Engineer pushed the plug just a little deeper.  
  
As Engineer spoke his mouth was so close to Spy’s ear. His breath made the balaclava warm, feeling like a soft hand on the side of his face. He tried to analyse his options with critical thinking but it was useless. He was lost in shapeless pleasant thoughts and giving into his needs was an instinctive motivation that was easier than spy training. His hand closed around his cock again and pumped.  
  
Engineer gave another deep groan, wiggling the plug in Spy as he watched. His cock was straining in his pants, and he ground against Spy's ass, though he knew the rough material would still sting his abused skin. "That's right," he murmured, pulling gently on Spy's piercing. "That's what you've wanted all night, isn't it?"  
  
The long session on the spanking bench was foreplay, the smooth southern voice in his ear was satisfaction, and the plug rolling in his body was the best fuck he’d ever had. Spy orgasmed with Engineer's attention to his piercing. 

Engineer was pleased to watch Spy stroke himself to completion with a quiet moan of his own. 

Spy's breath caught in his throat and he cried out after a few false starts in French, "_ Ne- Ne- _ No more!" 

Spy's hand stopped for a moment, then quickly went to work again pumping his fist. He begged more desperately now, for the opposite, "Don't stop, please don't stop!" As soon as he stopped begging Engineer to stop, he began begging for more again.  
  
Engineer was happy to keep teasing, working the plug in and out of him as much as he could with Spy pressing down onto it. He kept pinching his bruised nipple. 

Spy was quickly exhausted after spending himself yet again but willed himself to continue pumping. "_Il y'a plus_-Don’t stop, please!"  
  
He wanted more of Spy, he wanted to take more from him. But he didn't want to move either, he wanted Spy to cum as many times as possible. He'd never seen someone orgasm like this before and it wasn't something he wanted to interrupt.  
  
The series of climaxes were not an unusual thing for Spy, however. In some intimate circles, he was known for this ‘talent.’ He’d satisfied women in the past by completing with one and then turning his attention to the next and then one after that if he was lucky. But it was a skill that required incredible stamina and persistence from him. He’d never managed this in such a fast sequence, and never with such incredible intensity. 

Instead of moving his hands, Engineer bit into Spy's shoulder, sucking the skin between his teeth to leave a dark red and purple hickey.  
  
Spy spilled again in his hand and waited for a full second to moan lustily. To his surprise, he wasn't done yet. He’d never passed three ejaculations without a refractory period first. " _ Mon Dieu _," he whimpered and continued pumping again for a fourth ejaculation. It was weaker than the previous ones, but no less satisfying. It was a gentler end to a very intense series of spurts.

Engineer released the bite roughly, letting the skin slide through his teeth hard. 

Spy melted on Engineer, as if every muscle of his body was fully exhausted. His chest twitched subtly under the attentions to his nipple and he whimpered, "I'm done."  
  
Engineer released the plug and his much-abused nipple and put his arms loosely around the spy. He stroked the top of the masked man’s head, gently, feeling a little out of breath.

Spy was more aware of the unattended erection prodding him now. Instincts and training pushed through the fog in his mind and Spy's hand started to stroke up the Texan's chest as he suggested, "Let me stay out tonight. I can take care of you."  
  
Engineer wanted to. He wanted to give in and take Spy up to his bed. He wanted to fuck him. He wanted to sleep with him, even. But he knew exactly what happened when someone started to lower their guard around a spy. Spies were trained to seduce their captors and exploit their weaknesses, and Engineer swore he would never fall victim to that.

"Not happening," he grunted. He pushed Spy up, forcing him to stand. "I'm using you, not the other way around." He wanted it, though. Spy's hand on his chest, his mouth on his cock, that beautiful man laid out under him on his bed. His distrust outweighed his fantasies. This was a _ Spy _ . He'd been taught what to do to spies and he had been shown what they were capable of. He saw how easy it was to slip up and suddenly find a knife in your back, or worse.  
  
"Get." He nodded towards Spy's cell door.  
  
Spy stood up reluctantly and brought his briefs up. They dragged over his ass and he hissed as the material rubbed his welts. With a breath to steady himself, he bent down to collect his undershirt and put it on again. His toy was still nestled deeply between his cheeks.  
  
Engineer gave him a push, and closed the door before Spy could complain, leaving his captive in the dark. He locked him in, then headed upstairs to find an outlet for his own frustrations. But he went to the surveillance screens first.  
  
Spy simply stood in the darkness, facing the locked door that sealed him into his cage. The captive had to process it all again, after everything happened so quickly and so intensely. Engineer put the anal plug in him, and teased it relentlessly while he climaxed. It was surreal; if he wasn’t trained for torture he might fear that it was all a strange fabrication of his own mind.  
  
He felt the weight of the toy inside him as if _ Engineer _ were inside him. He lowered himself down on his bed pad, knowing now that he was under two cameras at different angles. Very tenderly, he lowered his briefs down to his knees as he raised his arse into the air.  
  
On only his knees and shoulders, Spy moved both of his hands down his body. One hand tenderly held the metal base of his plug and pumped it in his body. Each pump opened him up a little more, to begin gently easing the toy out.

His other hand stroked up his thigh until he found warm abused skin. Thin fingertips traced the welts slowly and thoughtfully, with great attention to every detail Engineer had beaten into him. Spy hated the pain and humiliation and was more than a little bitter to touch his own wounds. But it was apparent to him that these marks were a weakness to his captor.

Engineer wanted to give in to Spy, and so badly. It would have been easy to slip. It would have been so easy to commit that mistake that turned the tables and resulted in people being stabbed in the back.  
  
He hadn’t. Engineer knew he was still in control, but that was worth very little as he watched Spy touching himself. Engineer could only think that Spy was imagining what he could do to him right now. And oh, did he want to. Instead, he took himself in hand and stroked his cock while watching the intense scene before him.

The toy spread Spy’s tight body carefully for a while before the widest point finally passed through. Spy looked directly up at the hidden camera. He seemed to be meeting Engineer's eyes. 

Though he hadn't thought he was that close, that moment pushed Engineer over the edge and he came with a soft curse.


	8. Shorn

_ Spy, in his youth, was an image of handsome decadence. The lines of his tailored suits emphasized broad shoulders and a thin tapered waist. Nimble, perfectly manicured fingers pinched a lit cigarette. Warm brown hair parted on the side and combed back neatly. He was, all at once, approachable and mysterious. Elegant, and warm. _

_He was very carefully put together to have this appearance. He coloured his hair for this exact shade. His tailored suits had large shoulder pads to fool someone into thinking he was much stronger and thicker than he was. He manicured his hands regularly to hide any sign of anxiously chewing at his nails, and he kept cigarettes close at hand to bite at when he couldn’t suppress his nervous habit._

_ Spy would, one day, be the inspiration for 007 James Bond, and would see an artist’s recreation of him on the cover of a novel, _ Casino Royale_. _

_ Of course, his mentor did not like this look at all. His pupil turned heads when he walked into a room. With this appearance, men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him. The older spy considered it ridiculous, that this young spy used so much time to design his appearance only to make himself the center of attention. _

_ “We must do something about this appearance.” The older man spoke as he followed the lines of the tailored suit, from Spy’s italian loafers to his crisp tie. _

_ “I’m not sure I agree…” Spy returned, as his own eyes traveled up his mentor’s practical black boots, to the baggy shapes of the camouflage jumpsuit. The tightly bound harness for climbing the face of a building proved the older man was fit. But the uniform lacked any sex appeal. _

_ “I don’t want you to look like … this.” The older Spy gestured to the handsome suit of his younger companion. _

_ “But you can’t deny, I look handsome. Non?” the younger man suggested, desperate for a pinch of approval. _

_ “Of course you do. Attractive men like yourself often fail to have your priorities straight. How do you expect to do anything without anyone watching you, when they can’t take their eyes off you?” the classic asked. _

_Spy tried desperately to hold onto the compliment in that statement. The mentor undeniably admitted his pupil was handsome… although he did also say that he couldn’t be a proper spy. The mentor raised his brow, waiting for an answer. And Spy could not._

*

Engineer was angry with himself for his interest in Spy. He was dangerously close to staining his flawless record of torturing and killing spies without ever developing a weakness. He needed distance. He needed to assert his control. He needed to remind Spy of his position in this dynamic, that he wasn’t welcome to try to manipulate him.

Engineer went down with a plate of toast. He opened the door and slid the plate to his captive, then walked away and ignored him as he arranged the room.

Engineer removed all the tools from the tables and tucked them away. There was no spanking bench, no chair, no bondage. The room was locked up and empty, except for a hose Engineer dragged out, and sterile steel tables, in line with steel cabinets on the walls. Engineer leaned against a table and waited for Spy to eat.

"Bread again?" Spy commented casually as he finished his breakfast, "You know, this is not the only thing the French eat. Maybe we can put something additional on the menu."

"You'll get what I give you," Engineer told him, giving him a sharp look. "Strip."

Spy removed his shirt with no nervousness from the previous days. He eased down his briefs, and although he was very cautious of the welts and bruises on his backside, he showed no shame. This wasn’t the time to be embarrassed. Spy folded the clothes over his arm and offered, "Care to join me, Engineer?"

He knew Spy would think that stripping would mean they would be doing something sexual, that Engineer might be easily manipulated into letting him go, or doing him favours. Engineer wasn't going to let him think that for long. "Mask too," Engineer said, smirking at the nearly naked man.

Spy chuckled and inclined his head to his captor, holding an intense and steady gaze on him. "Let's not ruin the mystery now."

Engineer stepped in, grabbing Spy by the shoulder. Spy slapped the hand away with some force, Engineer's hand only returned stronger. Engineer hooked his boot against the back of Spy's knee, forcing him roughly down to his knees on the concrete floor, his captive shouting in pain. 

He kept his one hand on Spy's shoulder, and with the other, he grabbed the top of his mask and pulled it up. In the next instant his mask was off. 

Spy glared up at Engineer and resisted the urge to shrink away from the cameras in every corner. "You can undress me however forcefully you like, _ monsieur_, when we're in private." Each camera was more company than Spy liked. 

Spy’s intense eyes were the only thing to easily recognise on the man. Without the mask, the vague and shapeless mystery finally had a form. The age he admitted, forty-nine years, was much easier to see.

_ He’s handsome, but not quite deserving the title ‘world-class lady-killer, _Engineer thought. Spy had soft, dark honey-coloured hair that combed back nicely, despite being damp from sweat and matted to his head from days in the mask. An old scar on his temple disappeared into his hairline, making a thin line without hair. It matched an old scar across the bridge of his nose, also hidden by his mask before now.

He was a handsome man, but Engineer wasn't going to give Spy the satisfaction of admiring him. Instead, Engineer ruffled Spy's flattened hair. "Not the right colour for you," he remarked. It was clear to see his roots were dark, and matched his eyebrows, but the majority of his hair was much lighter, clearly dyed. "Too long for you too, don't you think?" Engineer went to the wall to plug in a long power cord.

Spy returned to his feet when Engineer left his side and watched his captor. The Texan made it very clear that he was not seduced and in no mood for it either. 

Engineer turned to his captive again; he held an electric razor in his palm. 

Spy took a few quick steps away. He only needed to be out of range of that cord, and the man holding it. "I'm afraid your haircut wouldn't be a good look for me," Spy called while backing out of the brightly lit area.

Engineer raised an eyebrow. He said nothing, but he snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor in front of him. 

Spy's chest tightened. Arguing was over, and Engineer was not willing to go back and forth. The Frenchman's very bruised and abused lean backside would not handle another beating if Engineer chose to punish him. He realised he was walking forward. "Engineer, please, let's negotiate." Spy's steps slowed down and his legs almost shook. He stopped on the edge of the bright area, barely out of reach still. "If you shear me, what will you do when I tell you to pull my hair?" Spy offered with a hopeful smile, stabbing desperately at seduction again.

His attempts to flirt were pathetic. Engineer felt a little relief to see Spy afraid instead of flirtatious and confident. Spy was breaking as well as he hoped. Even standing outside of Engineer’s reach, Spy was convinced of his captor’s control enough to almost be obedient. "I'm gonna count down from five, and if you aren't on your knees in front of me, this day is gonna get a lot more painful." Engineer turned on the razor, starting to count. "Five."

The Frenchman’s voice was soft, “_ Non…_” Spy's eyes darted to the black confines of his cell: his lonely and cold, but safe space in this place. He could retreat, if Engineer wouldn’t drag him out. 

"Four."

Spy's flinched as if the word was a physical blow. His eyes returned to Engineer, begging him with more genuine expression, “Please.”

Engineer's expression was cold and uncaring in return. "Three."

Spy stumbled the last few steps forward. He fell to his knees as if the word "two" pushed him to the place Engineer pointed. He lowered his head with defeat and a dry sob.

"Good boy," he praised him. He got a grip in Spy's hair and ran the razor over it, letting a clump of honey-coloured hair fall to the floor. 

Spy received the hair pulling he’d offered, although not in the way he wanted it. He closed his eyes tightly to not see his own hair fall to the floor.

It didn't take long before Spy's hair was only a fine dark fuzz, and Engineer ran his palm over the top of his head. "There, that's better." Engineer was experienced enough with the razor and used it to maintain his own short fuzz. The procedure was entirely painless, except to Spy's pride.

Engineer drove a point straight through to his core: he wasn't swayed by Spy's flirtatious stare or seduced by his appearance. "_Is_ it better?" Spy asked with a bitterly hurt tone.

He nodded and repeated, "Better.”

Spy looked up to Engineer with a deep gaze that tried to look through him, deciphering why the other liked him better this way. 

Engineer saw the look in Spy’s eyes and quickly changed his tone to something harder. “Stand in the center of the room, over the drain." He left the electric razor on a table and walked over to the coiled hose, ignoring the fallen golden hair on the floor. This time around he was hardly touching Spy. He didn't use the plug. He didn't let him into subspace. He only humiliated him and ground him down.

But he didn’t need him to be in subspace. He didn’t need information. He just needed the spy to understand who was in control.

Spy looked to the drain first and tried to determine what Engineer's intention was. The scene was different tonight. Spy couldn't guess what was coming next, or prepare himself for the next step. The only rule tonight was to follow his captor's commands. He cautiously stood and went to that place on the floor. It wasn't his first time naked, but his hands wrapped around himself loosely in a protective way. He watched Engineer cautiously, for any indication of what was next.

Engineer uncoiled the hose, made sure it was connected, and stepped close enough to Spy to hose him off. Spy had loose hair clinging to his head and shoulders, and he had gone without bathing for too long now.

Engineer had watched him closely on the cameras to know that Spy tried to be tidy and clean himself with water from the sink. But after sweating and cumming, he hadn't been really washed. The water from this hose was freezing, the pressure hard and unyielding. 

He turned the hose on and the water removed the hair without scrubbing, and some layers of sweat and grime also. Everywhere the water touched became pink and painfully raw. 

Spy went to his hands and knees as the pressure of the water beat him. It was painful in an entirely different way than the electricity or the beatings so far. Although it wasn't immediately worse than the dragon's tail, the water felt hard enough to pull his skin off and left him feeling chapped wherever it touched.

Spy was caught between trying to shield his nipple ring, his genitals, his face, and his bruised and welted arse. The water hurt so differently on each one of these tender areas. Between shouting from pain and gasping through the water for air, he could hardly breathe. His hands stretched out to block the worst of the impact. But even then, the water flowed around his hands and sprayed him with fat cold droplets that chilled him to his core.

The Frenchman had no complaint to being clean. But this was torture. "Engineer!" Spy shouted over the roar of water, "Stop! I'll wash myself!" 

Engineer ignored his protests, and kept the hose trained on him. He seemed to delight in aiming for the bruises and welts. He wasn’t looking for anything today, not expecting any answers or any kind of closeness with Spy. Instead he simply took his time hurting Spy, making him cold and miserable. The water flowed down the drain, taking most of the hair with it. The basement was made for torture and executions; it was easy to clean with simply a hose.

Spy would say almost anything to make it stop, but he didn't know what the man wanted. Through the biting cold water he thought when things changed. _ Was it when I offered more? _Spy wondered. Was it when he made a show of removing his plug and staring into the hidden camera? Spy was certain that it wasn't the sexual aspect. Engineer had introduced that. The Texan delighted in letting him see the toy he’d found and making him watch the vulgar recordings. 

Engineer changed when Spy took control of his captor's method of humiliating him.

Once he was satisfied, and Spy was pink all over, Engineer shut off the hose. 

Spy shivered on the floor and looked up at Engineer, studying his face and searching for what he wanted next from his prisoner. The wet, dripping, shivering Frenchman had no desire to deny him for the sake of being stubborn.

Spy looked appropriately cold and frightened now. Engineer felt a surge of pleasure at the sight of him trembling on the floor, hair shorn, soaking wet and staring up at him pleadingly. There was only one thing left that bothered Engineer, and he was going to fix that. From his pocket, Engineer pulled out Spy's straight razor.

The cold from Spy's skin sunk down to his core at the sight of the straight razor. It was handy for the skin-close shave Spy liked, but firstly it was a weapon. And it was at home on his neck. He tried to assure himself that Engineer didn't want to put the time into shaving his head and hosing him only to slit his throat now.

Death wasn't his only option, if he gave the Engineer what he wanted. "You're in control," Spy admitted, "I apologise, sincerely, for my behavior last night. I won’t suggest… intimacy, again." If possible, Spy cowered further, submissively bowing.

The look of terror that slowly spread across Spy's face was surprisingly pleasing. Engineer _ wanted _ him to fear him, to know that this could be the place that he died. He hadn't spent much time thinking about it yet, but it was unlikely that Spy would ever leave this place. This _ was _ likely the place that Spy would die. But, the administrator would determine that when he met with her again.

Though it was gratifying to hear, Engineer didn't bother responding to Spy's apology. He didn't need to acknowledge it. He _ was _ in control, he didn't need to be told it. 

Without any hair to grab, Engineer pulled his prisoner up on his knees and just tipped Spy's head back, exposing his throat. 

Spy closed his eyes but silently accepted the direction.

Spy definitely needed a shave. The thick beard hair grew in full and healthy, but it didn’t fit Spy’s lean features. It must have been very uncomfortable under his mask, especially after sweating into it for a week. "Stay still." He put the razor to Spy's skin, taking a long stroke upwards, removing the hair wherever the blade touched.

Spy's brows came together in total concentration. He was so still that his Adam’s apple didn't move as the blade moved up his neck. It was a very sharp blade and stripped the coarse facial hair with no effort at all. Spy knew from experience that if it started to cut him, he would feel warm blood dripping down his skin before he felt pain. 

Engineer was incredibly careful with the razor, managing not to nick Spy once. For some time, there was only the sound of the razor ringing and scraping through hair. Once Spy was clean shaven, shorn, and cleaner than he had been, Engineer nudged him with his boot to signal he was done. He wiped the razor clean on his jeans before tucking it away again.

Spy's eyes opened to see the razor folded and put away. He lowered his head again and stroked his own face to feel the smooth, naked result. There wasn't a single nick or even chafing. For a man who probably used his electric razor everywhere, Engineer was plenty talented with a straight edge. He should be relieved, but instead the thought simply made him shiver.

Spy wasn't sure what Engineer wanted now or if he wanted anything. He offered a humble, "_Merci," _unsure if it was for the shave, or his life.

"Back in your cell." Engineer nudged him again with his boot. He considered warning Spy that he was going to disappear for a time, but really, it was better if Spy wondered how long he was in there, wondering how much time had passed, if Engineer intended to feed or see him again. He said nothing as Spy made his way back to the cell.

Spy stood up again, without words. He walked to the place where his clothes had fallen, where he’d dropped them and forgotten them after he saw the electric razor. He straightened up and glanced around for the balaclava the gunslinger had snatched away.

"You don't get those back," Engineer said, firmly. "Get back in your cell," he repeated.

Spy reluctantly dropped the clothes, acknowledging the command although he was too embarrassed to look at the man or say anything. He returned to his dark cell, and stood in the dim light of the doorway.

He was conflicted between desperately wanting to be alone in his cell where he knew he was enclosed and safely locked away from the Engineer, and desperately wanting to be kept in Engineer’s presence, to tolerate whatever other modifications the man had in mind, if only to hear that simple praise, ‘Better.’


	9. Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is one of my favourite chapters

_ Cold water splashed his body and made his chest seize and he was starving for air before even losing his breath. He searched for his mentor's voice over the sound of water trickling over his face. _

_ The quiet flow of water was a deafening roar and his own struggling breaths became louder and louder. Water moved in thin streams through the cloth on his face and flowed up his nose. It was a horrible feeling that stung and aggravated nerves he was never aware of otherwise. _

_ But this wasn’t the first time Spy had endured waterboarding. He’d trained for this cruel form of torture, although it seemed he’d only encountered it in his training. He exhaled slowly through his nose to make just enough resistance that the water dripped mostly off of his cheeks. He didn’t need to resist the flow of water forever, he only needed to outlast the bucket of water. _

_ A terrible, bludgeoning strike to his diaphragm knocked the air from his lungs and he sputtered against the cloth on his face. It blew the water from his nose, but the relief was very short lived. His lungs were empty and water flowed freely up his nose and into his mouth. _

_ Spy gasped desperately for a breath of air and turned his head from side to side, desperate for his mentor’s voice to explain what he was doing. The gasp of air was unsatisfying, it was full of water and only a small bit of air. He coughed and immediately regretted it, losing the small amount of air remaining in his lungs. _

_ Spy couldn’t scream, or beg, or signal for relief. And his mentor’s voice was absent. _

_ Fear took over and he transitioned into panic, between attempting to breathe, attempting to swallow the water down, and attempting to spit it out. But quickly the world around him faded away. _

_ Spy woke up bound to the same wooden board he was fastened to for that cruel torture. His nose stung from water and his mouth held the metallic flavour of the bucket. But he was breathing without issue, and he breathed heavier with total relief. _

_ “Qu’est ce que c'était?” Spy demanded, although he immediately regretted speaking for how sick he felt simply to breathe out. _

_ “Waterboarding,” the Classic Spy answered. _

_ “I know that!” Spy replied bitterly. He was glad to have the wet cloth over his face. He couldn’t hide his expression of pain and fear. “I couldn’t use my training. I was struck on the chest, and I was helpless. How can I counter that?” _

_ “You cannot.” _

_ “Excusez-moi?” The younger man was becoming hysterical despite his efforts to control his voice. He understood he would be training for dire, or hopeless, situations, but he didn’t expect to truly feel hopeless. _

_ “When you are in a hopeless situation, you can control how quickly you succumb and die.” The words made the water dripping up his body feel much colder and more chilling. His mentor continued. “If your captor wants you dead, you're only saving yourself some pain by dying quickly."_

_ Warm drops of water mingled with cold as tears wet the corners of the young spy’s eyes. He swore to himself he would never let it come to that._

*

Engineer decided that Spy would be fine without food while he visited the administrator. She insisted that the updates regarding the interrogation be handled in person. No phone line was secure enough for her to trust it and Engineer sympathised.

But the face-to-face meeting would take him away from his prisoner for a few days. This was early enough in Spy’s captivity that his body still held lean fat to carry him through a few days without food. He would survive, although he certainly wouldn’t be happy.

The Administrator's voice was as cold and hard as it was during the gravel wars, but she was weaker. She presented her arm and the Australium intravenous drip attached to it. She was dying without a more efficient product, but it wasn't her top priority. "Do you have anything to report yet?"

"I do." Engineer nodded. He was focused completely on injecting her as painlessly as possible.

The Administrator's deep eyes traveled up to study his face. It was evident to her she didn't expect to actually have results like this so quickly. The Conagher family had been employed, officially, as ‘Engineers’ since Blutarch and Redmond started their wars. But equal to their mercenary skills were their skills in torture and interrogation.

“You were right about the connection. The RED Spy's mentor is the Classic Spy. _ Is _ being the operative word. He was planning to go meet him, in Australia." The injection done with, Engineer picked up the device that had been running Australium through her, frowning at it critically. "I can make a small adjustment here and—"

"Yes, do whatever you want." She waved at the device, entirely focused on knowing the intelligence he’d gathered. “What did you learn of the Classic Team?”

"The Classic Team is certainly still working. They’re not worried about aging, so I reckon they’re siphoning Australium from somewhere, and their Engineer built them one of these handy pieces.” He waved the device in his hand that had been attached to the Administrator’s arm. ‘Engineer’ was a rather cold way to talk about his father. It was his father’s technology, but he tried not to think of the man behind the machine, or say his name.

"The spy told you all of this?" She changed her tone, amazed although she tried to not let it show. "You believe him?" she confirmed, not doubting Engineer, but needing to be sure.

“We got ways of makin’ ’em talk, ma’am.” Engineer chuckled. "So far Spy ain't even aware that he's being interrogated. He ain’t lyin’ to me." He took a couple tools from his belt and began to tweak the device, carefully. It was a strange tool. Much more elegant than Radigan’s device for Blutarch and Redmond. But Dell wasn’t sure it was as effective, that’s what he told himself anyway, when he wanted to tear it apart and rebuild it. Certain parts of the design were so unique to his father’s engineering, they were like fingerprints. Effective or not, those were the parts he hated most.

"Do you have more intelligence to extract?"

Engineer wasn’t sure. He expected the Administrator to tell him when she was satisfied and he was done. But this question left it to him to decide. He hesitated, then answered. "I do. I'm hoping to get more details on the Classic Spy, at least a more specific location than 'Australia.’ I want to find out why he was meeting them too." He finished with the device and began to re-attach it to her arm. "I want some more supplies before I get back to it.”

“Anything,” the Administrator answered boldly.

“Do you have any files on the Classic team? I like to do my own research.” He smiled warmly, despite the chilling effect. The more information he had, the easier it was to convince Spy that he already knew everything.

The administrator considered it. TFI had files. Perhaps even binders for many of the mercenaries. But that went up in smoke when Grey Mann took over, the classic Pyro saw to that. She had her personal files. Just enough information to be a painful thorn in someone's side if they crossed her. "I think I have something you will find useful. You will need to wait for a delivery tomorrow.”

"I can wait," he said easily. The longer Spy waited, alone in the dark, the more desperate he'd be for company, and attention. It would make him even easier to control.

The administrator stood up. "Good. Make yourself comfortable." Then she took her own leave. She felt no need to stay and entertain her employee and she had plenty to do with her new information. 

Engineer was content to relax at the Administrator's secret base for another day.

*

Spy let pain become his company and entertainment in this dark pit. The pain was a small distraction from the numbing blackness and the deep wet chill that he never recovered from.

He was permitted to keep his metal plug. But maybe only for now. Maybe only until he used it for himself rather than letting Engineer determine when he could enjoy it. For now, Spy held it in his palm and rotated his wrist in small circles to feel the marble rolling within its chamber, as if it was a regular Chinese medicine ball.

The silence was interrupted by a distant rumble. Spy thought he heard Engineer moving furniture, which was a pleasant sound, if only to make him feel slightly less alone and remind him also of the world outside of this cell. But when he heard the rumble again, he realised it was thunder. It was a useless observation, but also the best thing to experience all day. It was proof that the world outside of this dungeon still existed. The distant rumble felt close enough to breathe the fresh air. 

The storm came closer and became fierce enough that Spy could hear the crack before the boom of thunder rolled out. He wanted to stay awake and enjoy the sound as long as it existed. But it was soothing him to sleep in the most peaceful way since he’d arrived there. He fell asleep with a smile, listening to the storm around him. 

Spy woke up with cold water soaking through his flimsy bed pad and he jerked up onto his hands and knees. He looked around in the darkness for the source, and heard another clap of thunder. The storm brought rain. A lot of it apparently. 

With an exhausted and frustrated groan, he pushed himself up to his feet and shivered in the center of the room. He glanced up at the hidden camera as if he expected a response from Engineer and waited for the sound of splashing through the water to come and get him.

But Engineer didn’t come.

Spy shivered in the water as it came up to his ankles and his calves. He used the toilet before the water came higher, knowing it would only make a mess to try to use it later. The water rose and Spy made sure to let himself have as much clean water from the sink as he could want, before the water came up and took that away from him too.

During the worst of the storm, the water rose up to Spy's chest. He relied on his training to not panic. If he let himself become dizzy or pass out, he would die here. If he decided it was time to let himself die, he could take that into his own hands. But he hoped for something more dignified than drowning in rain water. 

He looked up at the cameras watching him and wondered if Engineer would come for him. Or if this was Engineer’s plan for him to die. Stubbornly, the spy still refused to let himself down into the water to drown, neither for his own freedom from this prison, nor for Engineer’s convenience. He simply stood shivering in chest-height water.

Late at night the water level started sinking down. The drain in the center of the basement was small, but did allow the rain water to escape, however slowly. Spy was forced to stand for many more hours until the water was low enough to let him balance on the toilet, seated with his knees pulled to his chest and his head resting on the wall. 

Spy was sick with exhaustion but he didn’t dare let himself sleep now. Whenever he started to fall asleep a foot would splash into the water, or he would slip down and barely catch himself before falling fully into the wet darkness. Spy stopped looking to the camera with hope that Engineer would intervene.

*

Once Engineer had his file, he got back in his truck and returned to his assigned bunker. He returned after two days away, but everything was as he left it. The sky was filled with the same storm he’d seen rolling in when he left, but the rain was soft now.

He took his time reading through the file with a comforting, bitter hot coffee. He pored over some of the few details regarding the Classic Spy. None of the details were shocking, and mostly presented what he already knew or suspected. The Classic Spy was an older gentleman, but his age was unknown. In place of a true name, he used a code name: Falcon Eye. It made Engineer think of the dark blue falcon tattooed on Spy’s ribs. 

Engineer chuckled at one new detail that even his own Spy probably never learned. The Classic Spy had a perverse excitement for being pierced, and often had fresh piercings hidden under his mask or suit. His apprentice might have had more success if he offered to give his mentor some new piercings. Engineer wasn’t sure if he would tell his prisoner that detail, but it was satisfying to know it.

Finally, Engineer showered and changed into work clothes that were likely to be dirtied as he tormented his spy again.

Engineer liked wondering how long Spy thought it had been since his capture, how mixed up he was, sleep-wise. The poor man seemed to do his best to maintain a schedule and be active during the day and sleep at night, but he quickly lost track of when those hours were. He wondered if Spy thought he would escape, still. Or if he had resigned himself to being a captive.

A splash met his steps, bringing him out of his daydream. The basement was flooded, up past Engineer's thighs. It didn’t expect a storm this terrible in this season, but there was no arguing with the result. It was more than the little drain could handle at once. 

"Shit," he cursed, wading through the water to Spy's door. He opened it, letting the light flood in, and found a naked and trembling Spy sitting in the water, balanced on his toilet seat. He looked dead, pale and grey and with dark circles under his eyes, but he was clearly shivering.

Spy was exhausted, but not asleep. He flinched when the light landed on him and closed his eyes tightly to block out the light. Spy couldn’t see Engineer’s expression, but knew the routine, and was glad to be pardoned from the cold little room.

Spy unfolded his legs and stood up to meet Engineer. He would follow him, except Engineer was not moving, he was simply staring. The captive said nothing anyway, waiting for Engineer to speak first. Simply standing in place was taxing and he started to lean heavily on the wall to support himself and resist sinking down to his knees in the water.

Spy did not look well. One didn’t need to be a Medic to recognise that. Engineer stepped farther into the cell and picked up the starving man with ease. He guided Spy to put an arm around his shoulders and he did his best to hold him out of the water. Spy had always been thin but he'd been losing weight since he got here and it was not hard to carry him.

Spy was shivering intensely, no matter how he tried to hide it. If he had any pride against being picked up and carried, it was gone now for the chance to be held and feel warmth. 

"When did it flood?" the Texan asked, as they waded back through the basement. He put Spy down once they were out of the water, a few steps up on the stairway.

Spy was grateful for the rescue, but he didn't know the answer for Engineer's question. He estimated that he was in that cell, standing in rising water, for three days. But it was impossible to tell. He leaned back against the wall of the stairwell and looked up at the halo of light around the door. Spy admitted pathetically, "I don't know. _ Je suppose que_… A few hours after the storm came."

It meant that Spy had been in his flooded cell for days, unable to sleep, freezing in the murky water. Even as his captor, that seemed cruel. "It was two days," he said, though he doubted it really mattered to Spy. It had probably felt like an eternity. Spy nodded anyway, and didn’t question it. If Spy was as sick as he looked, he might not last in that cell, especially considering the time it would take to pump the flooded water from the basement and dry the cold walls.

Engineer didn’t want to lock his prisoner in the flooded basement cell again. But allowing him up to the ground level felt like a mistake. He immediately reminded himself that spies didn’t deserve pity or gentle treatment. They would take that kindness and exploit it. It was the most important lesson he’d ever learned from his father, and he’d learned it by watching his father’s mistake.

As he watched the weak, shivering man, he finally convinced himself that he couldn’t conduct an interrogation if his only proper lead died. He was making this decision for his _ assignment_, not out of sympathy.

He guided the naked man upstairs and into the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window. 

Spy climbed the stairs and felt weaker with each step. He stopped in the doorway when it was open to simply soak in the view. Soft ambient light came in through every window. The sunlight was dim due to the constant storm, but he could hear the rumble so much easier now, he could see the water on the window glass, and he could see the defined edges of a room, not an endless black void. The air was different. It wasn't the still moisture of a basement, but the rich scent of petrichor. Spy breathed it in and nearly choked up, before actually choking and folding at the stomach to cough dryly.

Spy stifled down his cough to look back at Engineer. He was overwhelmed by all of this. Simple windows were the most beautiful thing he remembered seeing. He was a little carried away with a new sense of optimism and asked, "_Ça va_? Are you letting me free?"

Engineer shook his head, nudging Spy along deeper into the house, past a room filled with computer screens and to the bathroom. "I just don't want to come down and find a dead prisoner, is all. You're not going anywhere." He ushered Spy in. His skin was cold and clammy, and darkened from the filthy water he’d soaked in.

Spy stood in the bathroom and took in his surroundings but didn’t move. 

Engineer moved around him to engage the hot water from the shower. "Take a hot shower to warm up, then you can dry off," he instructed. Engineer stayed close to watch Spy, not sure if he'd be able to stand by himself or not and not wanting him to fall and crack his head. 

Spy doubted he could hold himself up, but he wasn't going to make Engineer command him now. An offer for a hot shower and drying off was the best luxury he’d had since he arrived here.

The tall man stepped into the shower, but immediately leaned on the tile wall to support himself. He knew the flood brought in dirt at the very least, he didn't want to imagine the worst. Despite willing himself to move, he couldn’t wash himself or leave the supportive wall that comforted his heavy head.

Engineer took the shower head in his hand to help Spy by putting the water onto him. He let the hot spray hit the man’s legs and backside before bringing it up to his shoulders.

Spy’s shoulders shook. He put on a brave face and endured it, but he didn’t appreciate being hosed down.

The Texan lowered the spray of water and frowned as he considered it. This was a much nicer treatment than the last time he hosed the Spy down. By comparison, he was completely gentle this time. Regardless of whether Spy liked it or not, he was filthy and shivering and sick, and would be cleaned. 

Finally, Engineer stripped down to nothing. He twisted off the gunslinger, placing it on the sink with a suspicious look over at Spy. He stepped into the shower behind Spy and pulled the man away from the wall, to his chest, to hold him up and finish washing and showering him. Engineer grabbed a cloth and soap to wash the man properly. The water and suds in the cloth were warm and he felt the man’s skin warm up beneath his hand.

Spy often shook with coughing, it was clear he was weak. Engineer wondered briefly if Spy had drank any of the rainwater, and how sick that could make him. He doubted his Momma’s Homemade Remedies would be enough to fix a sick like that.

Tension in his shoulders, arms, and legs was slowly melting away. As Engineer scrubbed him clean, he felt as if a layer of the basement slipped away from him. Spy was still tired, undeniably so. But he was more aware now. He realised Engineer had removed the gunslinger to wash him in the shower. His captor was unarmed.

Spy was too weak to do anything, to even consider an escape, or fighting. Engineer was stronger than him with his one whole arm while Spy was as sick as this. But he liked knowing his captor was unarmed anyway. He could almost believe that his hell, down in the basement, was over for a short while. At least until the water stopped, Engineer readjusted the gunslinger, and decided what to do with him.

The Texan wrapped a towel around his waist and drew Spy out of the shower, putting a towel over his shoulders. Engineer continued to dry himself off, quickly and efficiently in order to put his already wet, muddied clothes back on. "Can you dry off?" he asked, when Spy seemed too stunned to start by himself. 

Spy answered simply, "_Oui_," and lifted the towel to dry his hair. His hands stopped as the soft towel moved only over short stubble hair on his head. It was a harsh reminder of being put in his place when he let himself become a little too familiar with the Engineer. The warmth of the shower seemed distant as he remembered the dangerous nature of the man he shared this small bathroom with.

Spy patted himself dry obediently, but he let himself move slowly just to linger in the natural light from the windows. Despite how he always lurked in the shadows, and how much he hated that terrible desert, he loved the dim sunlight now.

Though Spy was pale and thin, bruised and exhausted, Engineer couldn't help looking at him, admiring his lean body. The bruises were fading to a yellow-green, and the welts were a softer purple now, but he was clearly still in pain from them. Or maybe the aching man was simply pained in general after a stressful few days.

Spy coughed harder than he could breathe in and let himself sit on the counter, immediately followed by a groan of pain from sitting on his not-yet-healed bruises.

Now partially dressed, Engineer put a hand on his shoulder, letting him sit until his coughing fit was under control. He helped him up to lead him out of the bathroom. 

Spy dragged his feet and pleaded, weakly, "Please, keep me here a little longer."

Engineer ignored the Spy's pleading, not bothering to reassure him. He led him to the bedroom, nudging Spy in before following him. It was a small, bare room, but the bed was a generous enough size. Spy’s eyes swept over the room as his captor guided him. He wondered if this was another prison-like room, but then he noticed a book and a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, as well as some work boots tucked under the bed.

Spy understood that this was Engineer’s own bedroom, as he was pressed down to the dry, warm, bed. Spy watched Engineer cautiously as he waited for what came next. He couldn't trust this much kindness. Spy expected he might be fucked, hard. But he wouldn't complain. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d exchanged sexual favours for special treatment as a prisoner, but it _ would _ be his first time with a man who’d made him cum from excitement already.

Engineer put the blanket over Spy and leaned over him, a hand resting on either side of his head. His voice fell down to that threatening growl. "If you move, you're going back in the basement." 

The spy said nothing, but his expression showed he was frozen in place. 

Against his better judgement, Engineer left the weak and exhausted spy alone.

Spy was utterly lost in preparing himself for what was coming next. His enemy had left the room without touching him. His mind raced, wondering if this was a chance to escape, or only a test. He doubted he could get far, if he chose to run. He might only reach the door, and even if he locked it, it wouldn’t keep the Engineer out for long, and he would definitely regret it. While his mind raced his body remained frozen in place.

Engineer returned with the cuffs and Spy sighed with relief to know what was happening next, although he complained anyway. “That really isn't necessary. I'm not going anywhere." He rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, letting Engineer take his wrist without fighting him.

"Would you leave an enemy loose in your house?" Engineer retorted. He only cuffed one of Spy's hands, nice and tight, leaving the other free.

Spy insisted again, "I am not your enemy, Engineer! We do not work for RED or BLU!" The words ended with a coughing fit again. 

Engineer was too busy to tend to his prisoner for long, so he left him alone without answering his words or his coughing fit. First, he went back to the basement, checking on the drain. It had sucked Spy's discarded balaclava into it, which was keeping the water from draining efficiently. He removed the ruined thing and tossed it up on the stairs, above the water line.

After that he checked over his tools that had been left in the basement. The spanking bench was ruined, and there were some coils of rope that would need a good wash or they would have to be discarded, but otherwise the actual tools were all put away. He'd left the electric razor down here, unfortunately, and it was ruined also. 

He propped open the door to Spy's cell lastly, to allow all the water to drain from there. He spotted Spy's toy, resting in the sink, and pocketed it. He was pleased that the man had tried to save it. It might be the only toy that Spy enjoyed experiencing as much as Engineer enjoyed using.

After confirming the water was going down the drain much faster now, Engineer went upstairs, stripped out of his wet pants, and prepared a meal to make up for the missed meals while he was away.

Engineer had some idea of the home remedies he wanted to prepare. He spent more time in the kitchen than he intended to, more time cooking than he ever did for his own meals while he was here. It didn’t necessarily pay off. When he returned to the bedroom, to his Spy, the man was deeply asleep. 

With a lit cigarette tucked between his fingers.

He shook his head. "Damn thieving Spy," he chided, but he wasn’t annoyed. He knew the rogue would help himself to anything he could reach. Engineer took the cigarette from between his fingers while Spy slept, and noted that it was hardly used. He smoked it himself as he sat on the edge of the bed.

The ex-RED Spy was asleep in Engineer's bed. He hadn’t expected a situation like this when he’d accepted this assignment. Even watching him now, it was hard to believe. He wondered to himself what he would do when he was ready to go to bed, or how he could conduct a proper interrogation at all in his bedroom.

It was strange seeing the European this way. Engineer had seen him vulnerable, cowed and shaking with fear, or squirming and orgasming in his lap. But watching him sleep—and not through a camera—was different. Spy looked almost peaceful. Once Engineer was sure Spy was asleep, he ran his palm over the top of his dark, shorn hair, forgetting for a moment that there was supposed to be an interrogation at all.


	10. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they can't return to the basement quite yet

_ Spy stared intensely at the coursing rivers of wires carrying sensitive data through the machine. He knew an engineer had built this. Demoman’s bombs never paid this neat and delicate attention to the wires. Only an engineer was so considerate of binding together wires to posts and not letting anything tangle. It was organized, but challenging, nearly impossible, to understand such a complicated man’s thinking. _

_ He adjusted his grip on the wire cutters to move the wires and see where a certain batch went. But the adjusted grip was not secure and the tool slipped from his fingers. The silence of the training room was broken when the snips hit the ground very noisily. The metal piece echoed on the cement walls before the room was fully silent again. _

_ His mentor was standing by the wall, beside a lever. He said nothing as he eyed the offending tool on the floor very intensely. _

_ The younger spy tilted his head back to stare down, some metres, to the tool on the floor. He was still hanging, upside down, from a rope on the ceiling by his tightly bound ankles. He placed his hands on the hanging device in front of him for leverage to twist and look at his mentor. _

_ “Will you hand that to me, s’il vous plait?” Spy asked. _

_ “No. You dropped it,” the mentor stated harshly. _

_ Spy frowned. “It was an accident. Simply hand it to me.” _

_ “No,” his mentor repeated. “There are no accidents in the field. And if there are, there are not people to help you.” _

_ The younger man groaned, “S’il vous plait. I am exhausted. Lower me down for a rest and I’ll continue this later.” _

_ “Is this what you will do when you encounter a challenge during a mission? You will beg the nearest enemy to help you?” The Classic Spy chuckled and left the shadows to approach the younger spy. _

_ Spy watched him silently as he approached and tried to look as dignified as possible while hanging by his ankles, fully unarmed. _

_ “You can use that strategy if you like, but then, you’re going to need to be much better at begging.” _

_ Even upside down, Spy could see his mentor’s features so clearly to know that he was being mocked. “Non, I don’t want to beg...” he assured him. _

*  


Spy was usually a light sleeper, but in his current state he could sleep through almost anything. He didn’t stir as Engineer slid between the sheets and joined him in bed. He slept through any motion the other man made, shifting or turning during the night. He woke up in the early hours of twilight from the feeling of his own illness. The room was dark, but not too dark to see. Engineer's sleeping form in the bed was visible in the barest colour from twilight and he was resting surprisingly close.

Spy silently took the single cigarette Engineer had left for him on the nightstand. There was no lighter now, but Spy didn't need it. Chewing on the end of an unlit cigarette was enough. Spy sat up enough to rest his uncuffed elbow on the headboard and prop his head up in his hand. He watched Engineer in the pale glow of moonlight. His captor was young, Spy noted. Not a child, but younger than Spy by more than a decade. While Engineer slept it was almost possible to forget that deep threatening growl. Or that frown when he was beginning to count and sizing up what punishment Spy had earned. This might be the only time Spy ever saw this softer side of Engineer, and he couldn't bring himself to look away, even as the room filled with morning light.

Once the room was light and the sun was half up, Engineer stirred. He opened his eyes to find Spy sitting up, watching him sleep. His expression immediately darkened, the soft expression he wore as he slept gone. "Couldn't sleep through the night?" He didn't think he ought to punish Spy for inadvertently being unsettling. Surely spies couldn’t help that they were a bit creepy.

Spy shook his head and answered, "I’m afraid I don’t feel well enough to sleep, despite feeling tired."

Engineer sat up next to Spy, the blankets falling off his chest into his lap. He was hardly aware of his nudity at this point. There was only himself and Spy in the house and Spy wasn't even really worth counting. After all, the spy was naked also.

Spy glanced over Engineer, and immediately saw the man's naked cock resting between his legs, and the sight of it brought a wheeze and a new round of coughing. Spy made himself look away as he coughed harder. The American’s cock was thick and heavy. Spy had felt it prodding at his ass when he sat on the man’s lap, but he’d had no idea that this was what was hidden under those modest overalls. Spy didn't need to look long to have a very clear image permanently settle into his mind, to spring forward the next time he touched himself. 

Engineer reached over and touched his neck and forehead. Spy immediately slapped away the hand reaching for his throat. But that silent protest was all that the weak man could do; he was too weak to fight. 

The Texan asked, almost gently, "You’re warm again. How do you feel?" 

Spy let Engineer feel him, when the hand returned, and he answered, "I feel terrible. I need a doctor.” 

Spy was warm and looked terrible, but not so near to death as when Engineer found him. Dark circles under his eyes, clammy skin, but maybe Spy always looked like that. His shorn head gave an extra touch to his sickly appearance. But the cough was the worst of it, and that just needed some proper Southern remedies.

Engineer shook his head. “You know you ain’t getting a doctor. But I’ll give you a break.” He stretched, then stood, still naked. Engineer dressed, heading out to get them both some food. 

He made hot oatmeal for Spy and himself, something to warm them up. He ate his first, then, before taking Spy's to him, he put a little brown sugar on it, as he had on his own. A bit of sweet food would help him recover faster, or at least, that was what his mother had always believed.

Engineer stood still in the kitchen for a moment then, just listening for Spy. He wasn’t sure he would even hear the man if he got up. But then he heard a quiet cough from the bedroom and he was reassured. He prepared a cup of boiled water and retrieved a ginger root from the refrigerator.

He’d planned to really torture his captive by using this rather innocent root in him. Spy didn’t know how lucky he was to receive ginger water for his cough instead.

He nudged the bedroom door open with his hip and brought Spy his food and water. 

The prisoner took the water when it was offered. He carefully sat up and accepted the bowl of food next. He commented, "Breakfast in bed is how I prefer to be tortured, if you are taking suggestions."

Engineer snorted. "I'm sure," he remarked, uncuffing Spy's other hand so he could both hold the bowl and eat at the same time. As long as he was under close supervision, he wasn’t a threat. 

In the cold, Spy had forgotten how hungry he was. The oatmeal was a little simple for his palate, but the warmth spread to his core and soothed him.

Spy glanced at the cigarettes on the dresser, how far they’d been moved. More than the nicotine or anything else, he missed simply having a cigarette on his lips. “You moved the cigarettes,” Spy stated.

“Yeah. Didn’t want you stealin’ ‘em,” Engineer answered.

Spy smirked. “_Moi? Non_, I was sure that the cigarettes were a part of the amenities to my stay here. Like the deep-tissue massages, or the indoor pool." There was a little bitterness in his dry humour.

Engineer sat on the other side of the bed, propped up against the pillow. He watched Spy take his meal and saw how the man’s quick eyes settled on little details around the room, knowing more and more about Engineer with every moment he was here. Engineer hadn’t expected Spy to recover from the psychological impact of his imprisonment so soon. He’d been a shell of a man the previous day, and now he was glad to welcome breakfast and playfully spar with words. "Don't get too comfortable," he warned. "The basement is draining. You'll be back down there in a day or two."

Spy’s charming smile sobered to seriousness; it was clear he dreaded returning there. The two days standing and being flooded were some of the worst of his life. Spy was going to be very careful not to provoke Engineer to send him there early. Even a small amount of water on the floor would mean his bed pad was wet and he would be balancing on the toilet, unable to sleep. But the timeline interested him. "And until then? No more of your little games?"

Engineer wanted to make sure Spy wasn't going to be too sick to survive more torture, or find that perfect balance of beaten down and malleable. "You get a day's reprieve," he said. "After that, we're back to our usual schedule."

Spy was silent, unsure what to answer. It seemed wrong to thank this man for something as simple as not torturing him. For one day. But then… as he reflected on the previous week, he simply felt lucky. “_Merci_,” he finally said.

Engineer kept his word and allowed Spy to remain in bed, handcuffed to the headboard. While Spy rested, Engineer went to work in another room. But as the day went on, Spy found himself less grateful for his new confinement. The slippery man was missing the freedom he had to get his own water or use the toilet, or simply move around the room. In the cell, Spy could freely move and when he chose to exercise or wander with his palm on the wall, anything to escape the boredom, he could. He’d never imagined the empty black cell would be freedom, and yet, compared to this bed, it was.

Spy called out, “Engineer?” There was no response and he raised his voice. “Engineer?”

Engineer answered from the garage, “You need somethin’?” 

Spy didn’t answer. He didn’t want to ask for anything. He wanted a book to read, a radio to listen to, a person to speak with, a cigarette to smoke—the list was truly endless. But he wasn’t going to ask for anything.

Stubbornly, Spy rolled onto his side, within the limits of his handcuff. He was resigned to his training, to use what he had, and not to embarrass himself by begging for help.

Hours later, Engineer passed by the door and Spy sat up to listen to his footsteps travel through the compound. He was in the kitchen and cupboards were opening and closing, meaning that Engineer was making a meal. Spy called out to the man, “Engineer, my cup is empty.”

Engineer called back, “You gonna ask for some water nicely?”

Spy pressed back to the bed and frowned. It was a simple enough request. It was as simple as anything else Engineer had ever forced him to say. And yet, equally impossible. He sat silently and listened as Engineer prepared his own meal, and ate it, and then walked past the bedroom to the garage.

“Wait!” Spy finally broke his silence. “May I please have water?”

Engineer stopped on his path and considered it. He returned to the kitchen and brought his spy water. The spy took it and seemed to be watching him as if he was waiting to be lectured. But Engineer said nothing, and left again.

Spy struggled again with himself before asking, “I’m hungry also. Starved, in fact.”

The Texan nodded. “Yeah, I know. But I fed you once today. You want more than that? You can ask nicely.”

The Frenchman’s stomach answered before he did, groaning quietly from beneath the blankets. “Please, may I have something to eat?” 

Engineer nodded again and returned to the kitchen. He brought Spy something very simple, only raw fruit and some bread, but it was food and the captive took it gratefully.

After that, Spy became more vocal about his needs. He alerted Engineer that he was hungry, or thirsty, whenever the man went to the kitchen for his own needs. He asked to use the toilet as well, when he was desperate enough. It was an embarrassing need that Spy didn’t admit until he needed to.

Though the busy man hated to be interrupted by Spy's needs when he was working, part of him actually liked that Spy was forced to beg him for everything, especially after realising Spy clearly hated it.

Engineer encouraged the begging by sometimes denying Spy’s request and only rewarding him once he asked nicely enough to truly begin to beg. 

After feeding him a snack, Engineer took his wrist and Spy spoke very genuinely. “Please, leave me uncuffed. Let me recover in peace.”

Engineer didn't like the idea of allowing Spy that much freedom, and he couldn’t let him have _ anything _ he asked for simply because he begged. He ignored the protests and cuffed Spy’s slender wrist again when the food was finished.

Spy insisted, “But I’m harmless, I’m weak!”

Engineer simply chuckled in agreement, and then ignored him again to return to his work until Spy begged for him again.

Aside from their shared meal times, Spy spent that day and the next alone. Despite Engineer's promise that Spy would go back in his cell, he found he couldn't keep it—not because he didn't want to, but because the storm would not let up, and Spy's cell was still flooded with an inch of water.

Instead, Engineer spent the day Spy should have returned to the cell making a large kennel with thick metal wire. It was long enough for Spy to lie down, curled up, and wide enough for him to do so comfortably, and just tall enough for him to sit up with his head bowed. Engineer dragged the heavy kennel into the bedroom and deposited it in the corner. He gave Spy a little grin. "Your cell's still wet, so we're gonna do something a little different tonight."

Spy sat up to watch Engineer, frowning as he studied it briefly. “Is this a cage?” Spy asked. He’d thought the single handcuff was restricting his freedom, but this would be much more frustrating, and with an added layer of humiliation. 

“A kennel,” Engineer corrected.

"I hope you’re going to tell me that you are getting a dog tonight, Engineer. I am not getting in there." He was almost willing to declare he would prefer the basement, but he didn't know how flooded it was. He didn’t want to demand something he would completely regret. 

"Don't need a dog when I've got you, now do I?" Engineer opened the kennel door and dropped a blanket inside in an act of compassion. 

Spy glared at the comparison of himself and a dog. 

Engineer smirked at Spy's expression; he'd known he could get a reaction with that comment.

The European was a proud man and hated to have an insult to his dignity. He studied the kennel and found that there was no way to even enter it in a self-respecting way. He needed to crawl. 

Engineer uncuffed Spy and pulled him up to let him stand and stretch. "Get in," he directed, after less than a minute of Spy standing, stiff and frowning at the metal bars.

Spy seethed. "_Jamais_!" Even if Engineer did not speak French, the meaning was clear from the tone that Spy _ would not ever_. 

Engineer grabbed the weaker man by his raw wrist and dragged him to the kennel. No matter how Spy fought him, he was in control. "We both know you ain't gonna win this fight," he chuckled. He forced Spy down to his knees and nudged him towards the kennel with a boot. 

He liked seeing Spy like this, naked, on his knees in front of him. The handcuffs could make it even better. A few fantasies leapt unbidden into his head and he shoved them down for now. 

The moment Spy pulled his legs inside, the door shut behind him and Engineer locked it in place. The 

Engineer knelt down and locked the kennel door shut. "That's better," he told him, then proceeded to ignore him.

Engineer got ready for bed as usual, as though there was no Spy caged in his room. Once he had stripped down and gotten into bed, he couldn't help shifting over to the warm place in the bed where Spy had been lying. It had been nice to share a bed with someone. It had been a long time since he had. Even if that somebody was a spy, and a prisoner. In this place on the bed, he could watch the kennel and see his Spy glaring back in the darkness, naked and on his hands and knees. This was a nice view.


	11. Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> once Spy is put in his place, they have a pretty tame day together

“Come here,” “Hurry up,” “Quietly,” “Hold this,” “Come with me,” “Stand here.”  
  
So many of the mentor’s directions were easy. The younger spy’s only challenge was a voice telling him that he should resist. “You don’t need to do that,” he told himself, “You don’t need to do as anyone tells you. Tell him to carry his own radio.”  
  
That voice came from his pride, fighting for dignity as he felt himself fill up with excitement whenever he was given a command. Despite his pride, the spy-in-training found himself wanting a far more intimate position with his mentor: to live looking up to him, and submitting to him, and earning his approval.

  


*

  


Spy woke again before dawn, but thankfully closer to a reasonable hour. From his position on the floor he could see dim light coming through the window, beginning to illuminate the bedroom. Sleeping in the cage was not very different than the cell, except that he could not extend his legs at all.

The long and slender man shifted in the kennel, as much as the space allowed. He attempted to sit up at one end to stretch his legs to the other, but being so close to unfolding his legs only made the tight space more maddening. He bent and unbent his knee, stretching acid burn scars that destroyed an old tattoo. The metal pins in that knee seemed to be throbbing and Spy kicked the side of the cage in complaint.

The kennel was very sturdy and barely rattled. He shook it harder and harder, but only caused the lock to rattle quietly. Spy writhed without words for a long time still, until sunlight started to peek into the room. Finally he called out, “Engineer, let me out. I need to stand up.”

Engineer groaned but didn’t move. He didn’t need to get up for someone who couldn’t ask nicely.

The Frenchman started to beg. “Please, let me stretch my legs. These confines are driving me mad, please! I’ll be so grateful, I’ll obey whatever you ask of me today.”

Engineer groaned a little, but got up, still nude, and opened the cage door. “Go on,” he sighed.

Spy groaned as he unfolded upon exiting the kennel. He’d never slept so curled up and his body protested it. His long legs and torso did better stretched out, and he felt safer with his back on a solid surface. 

As soon as he stood, he started to work out the aches. He stretched his long body and bent in all the directions the kennel didn’t allow. He massaged his arms and shoulders as he locked his knees and enjoyed something so simple as straightening his legs.

Engineer returned to the bed without watching or caring. He was an early riser, but the sun hadn’t quite broken over the horizon yet and he would enjoy the last few moments of rest. From the bed, he held up the blankets and grumbled, “Get in, before I change my mind.”

Spy was too relieved to question it. He slid into the bed and brought the covers down over himself. He noticed his metal buttplug on the nightstand then and stopped just to look at it. Spy had rescued it during the flood by putting it in the sink, but it was far from his mind when Engineer came to rescue him. He was glad that it hadn’t been damaged or forgotten in the basement. 

He lay down on his side, suddenly very aware that he and Engineer were totally naked.

Engineer was acutely aware Spy was uncuffed, but instead of getting up again to fix that, he snaked a strong arm around his waist and pulled Spy’s back against his chest. “Gotcha,” he rumbled with a hint of amusement.

Spy answered with the statement he’d repeated many times already, "This really isn't necessary." But it didn't seem like a complaint. He was smiling. Engineer was warm, and feeling that broad chest against his back was more soothing than he’d expected.

Engineer's cock was pressed to his ass and although it was flaccid, it brought a little stirring from Spy's own cock. Spy had offered himself to be fucked by jailers, and assassins, and even an executioner once, always to get the upper hand in a situation. Engineer made it very clear not to try that strategy against him, and Spy wouldn’t consider it again. And yet, he found himself imagining seducing this man just to feel the warm cock pressing up to his skin fully inside him and filling him up. When Spy closed his eyes he could imagine the strong arm wrapped around him, pulling him close as their hips met.

Still it was strange to feel Engineer's warm and strong body in such a gentle way. Following the week Spy had survived in the basement, it was impossible to think of Engineer as gentle at all. But the soft brush of chest hair on his back with every breath they made, and the firm pressure of Engineer's palm on his own chest, it was gentleness.

Engineer slept late that day. He had worked hard yesterday trying to get the basement in order and building a cage for his captive. The sun was fully up when he woke up again. He pulled away from Spy, ignoring his morning erection. He sat on the far edge of the bed to wait for it to subside before getting dressed. He reached across the bed and grabbed Spy by the wrist. He pulled him off the bed and onto the floor.  
  
Spy slid across the bed and landed on his elbows and knees. He was fully awake now, startled, cautious, and very aware that Engineer’s games were starting up again. 

“Follow me,” Engineer commanded. 

With his captor a few steps ahead, Spy stood up and followed. 

Engineer turned and grinned at him. “I didn’t say you could get up.” He had expected this error and he was looking forward to correcting it.

Spy hesitated, on one foot. The grin was disarming, combined with those words. "I assumed..."

“Crawl.”

He gritted his teeth and declared, "I'll walk, thank you."

Engineer didn’t need to tell Spy how he would be punished for disobedience. By now, Spy feared him. “Five.”

As expected, fear flashed in Spy's eyes and his legs moved to return him to the ground. But then he hesitated. He hadn’t seen the basement again and considered it might be in ruins and totally unusable. Maybe Engineer couldn’t do anything at all—or so Spy tried to assure himself.

“Four.” 

Spy was a poker master and right now he was calling Engineer's bluff. He let Engineer count. 

“Three… Two.”

Spy took two steps forward and closed the distance between them, until they stood almost breast to breast. Spy looked down at Engineer, fearlessly daring him.

“One,” Engineer said. 

Spy opened his mouth to sneer, but he didn’t have the time. Engineer reached up and grabbed Spy by the neck, pulling him down and forcing him to his knees on the hard floor. Spy moved to slap the hand away again, but once he was on his knees, the fight was over. 

“This didn’t have to be hard, Spy. It could’ve been an easy day, but _ no_, you had to test me.” 

They struggled to the basement stairs and Engineer forced Spy to go down first. There was still an inch of water. Engineer tossed Spy to the cement floor and dug through one of the cupboards. He came back out with the whippy cane he’d used on Spy before, a thin leather leash, and a pair of clamps connected by a chain. 

Spy spat out the floodwater that splashed into his mouth as he pushed himself up. He watched Engineer approaching with his chosen weapons and knew a hard punishment was coming. But Spy was determined to stand his ground. If Engineer wanted to keep him prisoner, he would be this man's prisoner. But not his whipped dog.

Engineer put a hand on his shoulders to prevent him from getting up to his feet and reached down to attach the clamps to Spy’s nipples. The proud man immediately forgot his attempts to get to his feet and looked down at his own chest to free himself from the clamps. They were intricate and unique and it wasn’t immediately apparent how to release them. 

Engineer did not give him time to figure it out, either—he tugged at the leash clipped to the chain dangling between the clamps.

The pressure immediately brought the naked man to his hands and knees, gasping through the pain. The spy scrambled forward to follow the leash for a few steps before starting to push up onto his feet. 

The cane came down across his unmarked ass as Engineer reminded him, “Crawl.”

Every time he resisted he was painfully reminded to return to his hands and knees to crawl. Engineer wasn't allowing him a second to try to unclamp himself. When Spy tried to shield his ass with his hand, he found that the cane only hurt worse when it fell across his knuckles. 

Engineer punished him harder for attempting that.

Spy made a great effort to resist but Engineer eventually had him following the lead in circles without stalling or resisting. Spy was truly crawling without trying to stand or disobey, but whimpered softly, "_Je ne suis pas votre chien._"

Once he was satisfied with Spy’s pace and he’d stopped complaining, however quietly, Engineer finally let Spy get out of the water and go up the stairs, still on all fours. Once upstairs, Engineer started breakfast. He had intended to let Spy sit at the table with him, but now the disobedient captive was going to eat on the floor like an animal. Today they both got eggs and toast, and Engineer put Spy’s plate on the floor.

Spy's head was bowed to hide the tears that threatened to fall if he didn't carefully blink them away. As he blinked, a plate of food was placed on the floor before him. He stared at it with some surprise that a gesture of kindness had followed the punishment so closely. But it wasn't kindness, Spy realised. It was bait, to tease him. Spy looked up at the table, certain a fork was there. Through wet eyelashes he saw the cane on the table and lost any plan to reach up for a fork. "I'm not hungry... _ Merci_,” he stated. He could wait until the next meal, or whatever meal would eventually be on the table.

Engineer shrugged. “You don’t have to eat.” He knew Spy would eat eventually.

Spy nodded, acknowledging the man. Spy’s hurt expression changed to the stony look of someone trying to resist crying.

Spy stayed on the floor like an obedient pet, and Engineer reached out to stroke his hand over his short hair briefly. He finished his breakfast slowly. 

As Spy waited at his feet he found himself hoping for praise to accompany the petting hand on his head. He felt as if he’d endured quite a lot, and Engineer had made a pattern of comforting for him after pushing so hard. But... This harsh treatment was deserved, possibly. Spy did this to himself by testing Engineer's resolve.

When Engineer was done eating, Spy had his expression under control, the moisture in his eyes was dried. But the welts on his arse were still fresh, and certainly painful. 

Engineer stood and tapped the cane on a welt, lining up for the next blow if his captive chose to resist, but Spy moved quickly and obediently now, on his hands and knees, as he was driven out of the kitchen.

Spy assumed they were in a garage as he saw the things Engineer kept by the doorway: boxes, rags, oil cans, and wires. Everything he’d hastily cleared out of the garage on the BLU base.

As they entered the garage he saw the extent of Engineer's craft. The sentries and dispensers were arranged on shelves and worktables, partially assembled and undergoing upgrades. Spy doubted anyone had seen the inside of a Conagher’s workshop and lived to tell anyone about it, or so his mentor would have him believe. He’d obeyed his mentor’s order to never cross into Conagher territory, no matter how curious he was. But now that he was here, in a fully furnished Conagher workshop, he couldn’t turn his eyes away.

Engineer set Spy up sitting by his workbench, still on his knees. “I’ve got real work to do, so you stay quiet here or you’re going back to your kennel.” 

Spy nodded, a little distracted by the materials Engineer had. "_Oui_, I can do that," he assured him.

Maybe it was a bad idea to let Spy in here at all, but by this time, Engineer was sure the man wouldn’t be leaving alive. 

He was playing with a new generation of Australium-delivery devices, trying to make them more efficient; use less Australium for more time. There was only so much Australium left in the Administrator’s stash. Allowing him to use it in his experiments was quite the trust in him. But him and his family had been building with Australium for generations.

From Spy's position on the floor he could not see everything, but he could see a lot. There was a strange feeling of being in a fairytale. A very _ dark _ fairytale. In which he was warned for years to stay far away from something only to discover treasure once he found it. If his mentor didn't want the Australium, any weapons dealer in the world would kill for the weapons blueprints that Engineer had simply piled up on tables. Spy’s wandering eyes eventually came to his own sleek red car—so disassembled it was hard to recognise. And his spy gear, laid out on a table.

Engineer was drawing something on a blueprint. But from Spy’s position he couldn’t see what. 

Engineer let him sit quietly for a time. He’d had a difficult morning and Engineer was willing to give him a little break. It was supposed to be an easy day, after all.

He reached out again to stroke Spy’s head when he’d been quiet for some time and was pleased to find the Spy exactly where he left him. He was looking around, but it didn’t worry Engineer.

The days in his lonely dark cell were like preparation for this. Although he was craving human interaction and dialogue, after days in silence and darkness it was easy to pass a few brief hours in silence. Just sitting beside another person felt like company. But Spy was surprised by how long Engineer worked without stopping at all. Spy was ready for a break... depending on what that meant. Perhaps relief from his clamps? The pain wasn't intense, but it was very deep now that the superficial pain had faded away. When Engineer petted the top of his head, Spy smiled up at him with dry eyes. "If we aren't going anywhere, perhaps we can retire the leash and these clips?"

Engineer chuckled. Spy returned to waiting quietly. He discovered that in his mind he was waiting for Engineer to stroke his palm over his fuzzy head again. Although Spy was humiliated still by the close shave, Engineer's palm on the short fuzz was nice, almost a tickle. 

The feeling of the clamps started to cloud his mind. Sometimes they were quite numbing and he barely noticed them. At other times, the spreading tingle radiated so far, he could feel it seem to spread through his entire body. Resisting the urge to unfasten the clamps required only as much self discipline as squeezing his own knees and counting to ten. 

When Spy was counting the passage of time, only ten seconds at a time, it seemed to go on forever. Spy worked through it nearly every time, until he went deeper into that foggy state of mind where time seemed to slip by faster. Spy was in that pleasant headspace when the intense tingle started to tease under his skin.

Engineer looked at Spy every once in awhile as he worked. He was impressed by the man’s self discipline. He barely squirmed to endure the clamps, or the welts on his ass, and he made no noise. But he could see the effect of the nipple clamps begin to take effect and make the man truly struggle. Slowly, he could see Spy’s head tipping back slightly, his pupils larger than usual. 

The Frenchman rested his palm on Engineer's knee. "Let's have a break, _ non_?"

At Spy’s suggestion, Engineer realized how late it was. It was late afternoon; they’d missed lunch. “Yeah, good idea,” he praised, rubbing his hand over Spy’s head again, almost affectionately. “Let’s get some food.” He stood, nudging Spy with the cane and holding—but not pulling—the leash.

Spy started moving almost before the cane touched him. Tugging the leash was not necessary at all this time. Spy never let it become tight enough to pull as he crawled with Engineer. He returned to the kitchen with Engineer and stopped crawling when his leash was placed down. Glad for the break from the worktable, but hoping for more, he hinted, with sympathy for himself, "I excessively struggled earlier. I'm incredibly tender now." Spy watched Engineer move around the kitchen and suggested, "Please, relieve me of the clips, just while we eat." In his own mind, his voice seemed very calm and gentle.

'I excessively struggled earlier' was as close to an unasked-for apology as Engineer thought he could get. Spy was definitely in subspace. "I'll take them off after you eat," he said, but he unclipped the leash from the chain, so it wouldn't tug. 

Spy nodded at the promise of relief later. Later meant as much as ‘never’ when he was counting the seconds and trying to not reach up and unfasten the clamps. But ‘later’ also meant as much as ‘now’ when his mind was floating.

Either way, Spy would eat his dinner, if it was the requirement to be released from his nipple clamps.

Engineer gave Spy a place to sit by his chair and made them what amounted to an early dinner. It was a rice dish with beans and chopped green onions, with a bit of beef broth, but it was still a very simple meal that he could finish with minimal attention or time. He handed Spy a bowl this time, with a spoon. He could still eat on the floor, but with a little more dignity than he was offered this morning. 

Spy took the spoon and bowl and ate as much as Engineer provided him. It was the best meal he’d eaten since he’d arrived here. His lack of breakfast made it easy to finish everything he was served.

Engineer sat to eat his own dinner with a sigh. He often lost track of time when working and, after Spy’s interruption, he realized he was nearly ready to stop for the night.

Spy hadn’t expected to be impressed by the man’s cooking, but he savoured every bite, and sometimes caught himself moaning his approval of the food. When he finished the bowl he hummed with satisfaction and placed it up onto the table with the comment, "I knew you could cook."

"Of course I can cook. Just don't care to, much of the time." His meals tended to be simple, as he didn't like to spend a lot of time cooking. Still, every once in awhile he needed to have something that reminded him of home. But this was nothing to impress Spy, and he was surprised it had that effect. 

Curiously, Engineer took a nearly empty mug of coffee from the table and glanced inside of it. He wasn’t sure if it was his unfinished coffee from this morning, or perhaps from the morning before when he’d eaten alone. It wasn’t foul, but it wasn’t fresh. He offered it to the Spy. “Want some of this?”

Spy accepted the mug and looked into it only to know what to expect, and then he drank it. He hummed with satisfaction with his lips around the edge of the mug and as he lowered it he nodded. “_Incroyable_.” 

Engineer laughed, standing to put both their empty bowls in the sink and leave his captive with his mug of old coffee. “Was part of your spy training to be able to eat whatever they give you in a prison?”

Spy took another long drink from the cold mug before answering. “_Non_. Not at all. But I was trained to obey orders… I hated it then, as much as I hated it today.”

Engineer raised an intrigued brow and returned to the table to sit down. “Was that with your mentor?”

“_Oui_.”

“What orders does he give you?” Engineer was careful to emphasise the sentence to imply he was more curious of how Spy submitted to his mentor.

“He told me to stay away from you,” Spy admitted, before another sip of his cold and stale coffee.

“You should have listened.” 

“_Oui!”_ The broken man couldn’t help laughing as he agreed. “_Mais oui._ _Helas_, I think he is afraid of the whole Conagher family. Maybe he is in Australia to be as far from Texas as possible!”

Engineer shrugged and simply watched the Spy. If he waited long enough, maybe his prisoner would continue talking. He didn’t require much silence before Spy started to speak again. 

“He works with your father. As frightening as your family skills are, he needs your talents for engineering.”

Engineer said nothing, but now it was because he preferred to not speak. Spy likely knew very little about Conagher Sr., but the same was true for Engineer. He considered himself estranged from him.

He didn't like the subject. But it told him a lot. Someone as cautious as the Classic Spy would only insist on continuing to work with the Classic Engineer for one purpose: The Australium-delivery devices that poured golden liquid life into old bodies, the contraptions that beat death. 

Spy offered up his empty mug to Engineer, totally unaware of how much he’d told his captor in this state.


	12. Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> compared to some other chapters, this is almost domestic

_ "Seduce me," the Classic Spy directed as he folded his hands behind his back. _

_ Spy's chest swelled with excitement. He’d anticipated a training session like this would come eventually. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ His mentor was not making himself approachable. His face was mostly covered by a balaclava and a scope. Only one eye was visible, watching him with total seriousness. But this did not matter. Spy was determined to change this expression soon. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ "Gladly," he answered as he unmade his tie and slid his coat off, while approaching the classic. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ His mentor put a hand on his chest and pushed him back. "What are you doing?" the classic demanded. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ "I'm following my orders," Spy answered easily. _ _  
_   
"What is your motivation?" the older man asked. 

_ "To complete my mission," Spy answered dutifully. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ His mentor sighed heavily. "Are you a whore?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Is your mission to get fucked and return home? No!" The classic began to elaborate with an incredible intensity and diverse expressions in his one visible eye. "You are seducing a politician's wife to break into his safe without suspicions! You are seducing a guard and murdering him in a coat room! You are a captive and you are fucking your way to a cell in low security! But here you are, removing your coat and whatever tools you brought with you." _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Spy stubbornly removed his coat completely with a confident grin. "I won't always have tools with me, sometimes I will need to be resourceful. Most of all in the situation of becoming a captive." _ _  
_ _  
_ _ His mentor pushed him away. "Fine. You'll be the captive, I'll be the captor. Seduce me." _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Spy stepped backwards and sat on the arm of a couch. He extended an arm and curled his finger to beckon the 'captor' to him. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ "I'm not convinced," the classic stated. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ "Let me convince you," Spy purred. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ "Play to my weaknesses," his mentor instructed. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Spy was lost. He lowered his arm, and didn't know how to do more. _ _  
_   
The classic sighed heavily and approached him. "You need to study me, and know who I am. Am I a lonely polyamour trapped in a stale monogamous relationship?" 

_ Spy's eyes opened wider at the thought before realising it was only a character and not a fact. _

_ "Or am I a sadist who needs someone to make me feel powerful?" the classic asked as he pulled Spy's head back with a fist in his hair. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ "Each target has different challenges," Spy answered, struggling to remain calm with the hand in his hair. "I need to know who you are so that I know who to become." _ _  
_ _  
_ _ "Exactly," his mentor answered. "You be the guard, and I'll be the captive." Classic Spy released Spy's hair and moved his palm along his back and followed the shape of his ribs to his chest. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Spy's cock stirred in his slacks and a shiver moved up his spine as his mentor's warm palm traced the firm muscles of his chest. _ _  
_   
"I know you're just following orders," Classic Spy whispered. "I'm not seducing you for a pardon from my sentence, or for you to set me free. I just need you to want me enough that you will lower your defenses." 

_ The warm palm pressed Spy back to seat himself on the couch, a gentle order that Spy followed. _

_ He followed Spy down and brought their lips close together. "I'm not fucking you until I know I’m in control.” _

  
  


*

  
  


Spy had earned a reward, whether he understood it or not. He told Engineer so much while he was in subspace. He was making the interrogation easy.

Engineer directed Spy to their room, and although he insisted that the man crawl there, he welcomed him into his soft bed.

Spy smiled genuinely and crawled up onto the bed gladly and rolled into his back. 

The hours sitting in the garage and kitchen had been a nice break for his caned ass, cooling in the open air, but the welts were still very tender. Spy lifted his hips and readjusted himself gently, seeking the best way to recline. 

Spy glanced down his body, past old burn scars dotting his chest, to the clamps on his nipples. They didn't look how they felt. There was nothing obscene or gruesome, they were only a bit redder. There was not much to show for how much he felt them right now. 

He looked up to Engineer and hoped he was coming to relieve his punished flesh. Engineer had promised. After Spy ate, he would be relieved.

Spy's hopes were rewarded. Engineer sat up against the headboard and pulled Spy into his lap. Once he was settled, he carefully undid the clamps. Engineer knew that, after that long with clamps on, taking them off would hurt a hell of a lot more than having them on. All the blood would flow back in and it would burn.

For now, he wrapped an arm around Spy's waist, anticipating that he would squirm and whine. With his other hand he stroked Spy's head. 

Spy sighed heavily as the clips were unlatched and he was freed, and he rolled his head back into the hand petting him, very relieved.

But the relief was brief, as Engineer had predicted. The intense tingle was replaced with the burning sensation of hot blood rushing in. Spy arched his back and squirmed, and he tried to mute his whimpers.

Engineer held his captive close and guided Spy's hands away from his own chest. There wasn't much the man could do to soothe the pain, so there was no reason to block the view of him.

His nipples looked red and tender, and Engineer had to fight the urge to pin Spy down and lick and suck at them, maybe bite and leave a nice hickey around them. For now he left them alone, letting the blood flow back into them before he started to touch. 

Slowly, his hand wandered down from Spy's head to the Egyptian eye tattoo on his left pectoral, stroking it and tracing it.

Between the fresh welts rubbing against Engineer's lap and the sensations of a tender hand exploring his body, Spy made plenty of noises that were not quite pained but not quite pleasured. 

Engineer could tell that Spy was trying to keep himself quiet, but the soft cries that escaped him seemed to go straight to Engineer’s dick. He stayed still, not wanting to rub up against Spy, willing his erection to go away.

When the worst of the actual pain was over, Spy put his head on Engineer's broad, sloping shoulder and noticed the broad hand touching one of his many tattoos. Spy glanced down to see what it was. He forgot his own body sometimes, after years of disguises. He closed his eyes and purred, "Do you like it?"

“It’s handsome,” he responded, rubbing the tattoo with his thumb. “What’s it mean?” He doubted it was useful information to his own interrogation, but he was simply curious now.

Spy could not see past the pleasant dizziness in his own mind enough to guard his own secrets. "It signifies being part of an insurgent group. I was undercover as a member among them in Arabia.” He hummed sadly at the old memory. “Until they were caught. And now, I have forty lashes on my back, to match it.” After Spy started talking, the information flowed. A gentle questioning led to an honest answer and more. Spy had once been embarrassed to even show his scars, and now he was telling Engineer the meanings of his markings.

Engineer silently began to catalogue things Spy said, to remember everything and write it down once Spy was asleep. He decided to dance around the tattoo he really wanted to know about and pretend curiosity about a scar instead. It ran deep, from his left collarbone down his body to his right hip. “What about this?” he asked, running rough fingertips over it.

Spy knew exactly what Engineer was touching from the very long path he made down his body. "I had an idea that my business at TFI could be easier without a BLU counterpart. He had the same idea." Spy didn't need to tell Engineer the result. Engineer knew very well that his BLU Spy was alive, well, and glad to provide intelligence on the RED. But Spy couldn't resist adding, "It was a bad fight, but it was worse for him."

“Mmm,” Engineer hummed sympathetically. His fingers moved to the falcon over his ribs. “And this one?” he pressed.

Spy laughed very softly as the gentle touch tickled him. He opened his eyes to confirm what tattoo Engineer was touching. "It's only a Falcon." His own much narrower fingertips touched Engineer's as he felt the subtle ridges of the sharp wings. "But it reminds me of my mentor. His codename is Falcon Eye," Spy added.

Engineer nodded.

Their fingers traced together the jagged scars hidden under the tattoo. “He hardly touched me, while he trained me. He didn’t like to get his hands dirty. I never convinced him to touch me himself when I was trained for interrogations and torture.”

The Texan’s heart seemed to beat so hard, he feared the man in his arms would hear it. But he couldn’t suppress his own growing excitement as Spy remembered simply wanting to be touched by a man as he was tortured. Engineer knew his duty was to break the Spy. But he would give anything to be the man that Spy would ask to hurt him.

“What did you want him to do?” he asked, innocently enough.

"_Ne m’importe pas_. I would let him use any of those instruments you used in the basement.” It would have hurt, of course. But training for torture was _ promised _ to hurt. And it would be so much more intimate than suffering at the hands of a sadist while his mentor quietly watched and corrected his technique. 

Engineer was truly stumped then, and wondering how to have that role. It thrilled him to make Spy struggle and beg. But to see Spy offer himself up to any tool Engineer suggested? It was a fantasy he could barely imagine.

“Maybe…” Spy started to wonder out loud. “He had my attention, my respect, my obedience. Maybe I wanted him to test how much I would endure for him, to have all of that.” 

Engineer’s heart sped up as Spy explained everything for him.

The silence lingered for a moment too long and Spy began to speak again. “I didn’t expect for him to appreciate the tattoo, however. I got it for myself.” He pressed his hand to the tattoo. There were a few old scars hidden within the contours of the falcon’s body that matched the mark across his nose and the one along his hairline.

His fingers moved up to the old scars on his head as he remembered them.

Engineer’s hand followed and gently traced the small scar across the bridge of Spy’s nose. He had the urge to kiss it, but did not.

“I’d thought as much, the way you talk about him. But you got your piercing for him, isn’t that right?” The hand still wrapped around Spy’s middle moved up, and Engineer could no longer resist touching Spy’s red and swollen nipple, toying with the piercing again. 

The question was deeply personal and Spy hesitated, but as soon as Engineer's fingers started to toy with the piercing, the answer came out: "Yes!" He gasped and started to squirm again. "Whenever I saw past his uniform, I saw his piercings. I thought I could pretend to understand whatever subculture he engaged in. I was sure if I had a piercing on myself, he might see me as someone more intimate than his student." The reason for his squirming became more obvious as his erection swelled between his legs.

By now, Engineer knew from the files he’d gotten from the Administrator, that the older spy liked the dangerous sensation of metal piercing his flesh. The RED Spy’s attempt to seduce him was useless. But he said nothing about it.

Engineer continued to tug gently, and roll the sensitive nub between his rough fingertips. He watched Spy's body respond with interest. His own cock twitched at the sight. His hand skipped over the cigarette burn scars and the little brand on his neck. He knew where those were from and didn't want to ask. Instead his fingers went to the uppermost bullet scar on his chest, one that passed through and above the tattoo-cat. "Shot three times," he prompted. "I'm almost surprised you survived it." It was hard to truly be surprised, however, since he knew Spy. 

Spy caught his breath as Engineer explored his tattoos further and abandoned his nipple for now. Hearing the words, he smirked and lifted his shoulder enough to show the cat on his back. Two of the bullets passed through the meat of his body, the third went through the eye of the cat and stayed in the bone. "Just one of my nine lives, no?" Spy purred. Despite Engineer's grim outlook of Spy's future, the Frenchman didn't fear the idea at all. He was sure that this place was not the end for him.

Maybe, in the sense of a cat with many lives, this was only the death of his identity as the mysterious RED Spy. That was nothing for him to fear. He was ready to leave this identity behind, and embrace with fear and excitement his next identity.

"It might have been three of your lives," Engineer chuckled, tracing the other two scars before pulling him back against his chest. “How many more you got left in you?”

“One or two,” Spy answered calmly.

Engineer wasn’t sure if Spy had a reason for the number, or if he was simply compelled to answer any question his keeper asked him, whether he had an answer that made sense or no.

Spy slid a hand around his own cock and sighed with relief. They had done this before, once. Engineer had held him in his lap and let him bring himself to completion in an intense series of ejaculations.

…But immediately after that was the worst experience yet: A humiliating close shave, a cold shower, and sleepless days alone in his flooding cell. Spy released his cock.

He didn’t know that the flooded cell wasn’t a punishment. Engineer seemed so perfectly in control, he believed anything that happened was perfectly the decision of his captor. And from his point of view, whatever he did to earn the punishment last time, he would not repeat it again. So he watched as his cock became swollen and heavy and he squirmed and gasped in Engineer's lap as he resisted his own needs.

When Spy took his cock in his hand Engineer licked his lips, eager to watch Spy cum again. Unfortunately, his captive let go almost immediately and dropped his hand, clearly nervous because of what had happened last time. Engineer made a low sound of disappointment. He was usually so proud to maintain control in these situations, and yet, as they balanced on the careful edge between a violent professional relationship and a new sexual relationship, Engineer was desperate for the Frenchman to push them into that next realm. He wanted to reach out and stroke Spy's cock himself. 

He resisted, taking both of Spy’s nipples between his fingers instead and twisting, wanting to feel Spy wriggle and listen to him cry. He wanted to put the plug in Spy again. He wanted to fuck him. His fantasies were getting out of control. Engineer cursed within his own mind, feeling powerless to stop his thoughts.

Spy pressed firmly against Engineer's chest as the man began to torment him again, searching for an escape without success. The fresh sensations were bringing him back to life from his previous lethargy. He gasped, and short, blunt nails—chewed short after a lack of cigarettes and gloves—gripped Engineer's arms. "_Non, non_, I'm tender! Please be gentle!"

All of his attempts to get away only pressed him to Engineer desperately. "Oh, _ mon Dieu_, it is too much for me!" he gasped between sounds of mixed pain and excitement. 

Engineer knew he wasn’t handling Spy roughly enough to cause permanent damage. It might not even be hard enough to bruise! But Spy was rendered useless by the torment. His desperate wriggling and begging was everything Engineer wanted from the man. Spy was caught in an unfortunate situation, that the more he begged, the more his captor wanted to torment him.

Spy could not understand his situation at all, or how his cock remained rigid throughout it. Engineer's attentions to his nipples ached and throbbed. The gunslinger was cold and punishing and his flesh hand was calloused and brutal just touching his sensitive flesh. And yet, it was making him impossibly hard. 

The begging continued but the subject began to change. "Let me touch myself! I'm so desperate! I'm so excited. I need to finish._ Je suis désespéré _."

"Wait," Engineer told him firmly. He tormented him for another full minute, enjoying Spy's cries for mercy and release.

Spy begged more desperately as the torment continued. His hips rolled in the air and his hard cock penetrated nothingness. His slender fingers gripped Engineer hard. Moisture started to collect in Spy’s bright-blue eyes, revealing his genuine need.

Finally, Engineer couldn't stand it anymore. He sat up, pushing Spy off him and sitting him up against the headboard where he had been. 

The lean man moved stiffly, as every muscle was bound tight, begging for his cock’s relief.

Engineer grabbed the plug and dug out a bottle of lube. 

Spy watched the toy slicked in Engineer's hand like a starving man watching a meal. He lifted his hips, eager to feel it. It was only a moment before the toy was slick and Engineer was pressing it into Spy. Spy parted his legs and moved with Engineer eagerly.

Engineer loved the way Spy's tight ring of muscle resisted at first, and then eagerly accepted the plug once the widest point passed his sphincter, pulling it deeper.

Spy arched off the bed with a sharp and loud groan as the pear settled inside him and touched his inner walls so wonderfully. 

Engineer let himself imagine that it was his own cock spreading open that tight hole. He let himself picture the flexing muscle squeezing his cock, and then how his cock would make Spy melt with pleasure.

He sat between Spy's spread thighs, looking down at him with so much pent-up lust. Engineer couldn't deny himself anymore, but he could at least be patient.

Spy let his muscles squeeze tightly at the toy purely to feel the resistance as it kept him spread open; the pleasure was almost enough to climax from that alone. One of his hands rested on his stomach, ready to grab his cock. His other hand gripped the bed for his life. "_ S'il vous plaît, s'il vous plaît _! I'm so close now!" Spy looked up to Engineer desperately.

"Not yet," he said, but he ran his hand over Spy's head in that praising way that he often did these days. 

Spy whimpered as he heard the command. The petting on his head was a small comfort compared to how hard and aching his cock was. Precum leaked from his tip. 

He wanted Spy to last a little longer. Unable to resist anymore, Engineer bent over Spy and licked a broad stripe over his pierced nipple, before taking it in his mouth and sucking at it. The metal of the piercing clicked against his teeth. 

Spy rolled his head back into Engineer's hand and closed his eyes to focus when he felt the mouth close around his nipple. Although Engineer wasn't rough at all, it nearly drove Spy mad. He cried out pathetically and gripped Engineer's back. He squirmed underneath his broader partner and raised his hips up into Engineer's denim-clad leg, desperate for contact.

Engineer used his teeth gently, biting just behind the piercing, teasing the tip of Spy's nipple with his tongue. Spy's tormented noises and struggles were more enticing than Engineer wanted to admit. He kept his gunslinger on the bed next to Spy, but his flesh-and-blood hand released Spy's head and wrapped around Spy's aching cock instead. At first he didn't stroke him, just squeezed gently. He was worried Spy might cum on the spot if he stroked him. 

Spy was nearly that close. Engineer didn't need to pump; his partner began to move his hips in well-practiced movements that made his toy thrum pleasantly inside him. Spy curled his torso and bowed his head. His lips brushed the top of Engineer's head. "_Vous me rendez fou_," he growled in French, his voice dripping with lewdness, "_faisez-moi une branlette et baissez moi!" _

Engineer didn't need to know French to know that this man was becoming vulgar, and absolutely loving what Engineer did. Spy sounded as though he was close, as though he was begging, and Engineer wanted nothing more than to take the plug out and fuck him silly. Spy wasn't going to last that long, though, and Engineer wasn't sure he wanted to be _ particularly _ cruel and continue fucking Spy after he'd cum.

He’d never crossed this line with a prisoner before, and even his fantasies could not predict what his tastes were. Though he wanted to hurt Spy, right now he only wanted to do it in a way that Spy could _ enjoy _. He began to stroke, sealing his lips around Spy's other nipple and sucking it into his mouth, letting it slide through his teeth.

Spy had endured the mean pinch of the clamps for hours and the brush of hard teeth now felt cruel. Spy was caught between wailing and moaning as Engineer played with nerves that went to his groin. His nerves urged Spy to break away and curl up. But the gentle suction forbid him from moving or tugging away from Engineer at all. Luckily, staying in one place was rewarded and the quickly pumping cock started to throb in Engineer's hand. "_Plus vite! Plus vite! _" Spy growled lewdly before spilling in Engineer's hand, no longer able to hold back.

Spy gasped for air as he let his hips roll in Engineer's hand, but he didn't stay quiet long. He started pumping his hips almost desperately as he nearly begged now, "_Il y a plus! _Keep going!" Spy was riding through a long orgasm punctuated with multiple ejaculations, again. But this time, he was doing so under Engineer's own hand. Letting his captor be the cause of that pleasure, and he was driven even more mad by it.

Engineer's restless pumping hand was rewarded with another ejaculation before Spy collapsed to the bed, drained. And he looked _ fully _ drained, as though the intense day-long scene had exhausted the life from him and he had spilled it all through his cock now. But there was undeniable pleasure written deeply in his expression.

After watching Spy cum four times the first time, Engineer was not surprised when he continued on to a second orgasm. He stroked after the second one for a few moments until Spy nearly convulsed to get away from his hand. It was clear Spy had exhausted himself. His touches gentled. His mouth against Spy’s nipple kissed instead of biting. His hand released Spy’s cock, so as to not overstimulate him. Engineer felt lenient and pleased with Spy’s behaviour. He had been so good, since Engineer had broken him earlier. And he was clearly still feeling the effects of being in pain, and under Engineer’s control. 

Engineer leaned forwards, pressing his face into Spy’s neck for a moment. 

Spy let him close and let the man’s warm lips travel over the skin of his neck, passing the old brand seared into his skin to find virgin white skin. 

It seemed affectionate until Engineer bit down, sucking at the skin to leave a prominent hickey. 

Spy arched up, again, as much as he _ could _ arch under the weight of Engineer. Spy gasped and struggled a little until it was clear to him that the Texan was giving him a hickey. Spy had never had a hickey since his school years but there was a lingering memory of earning these sexual marks and then carefully hiding them under the high collars and pinched ties of the school’s uniform. The idea of having no clothing to hide the hickey now excited him. Spy was marked in yet another way.

Engineer liked seeing his marks on Spy. It was like a sign of ownership. Engineer sat back up, stripping off his clothes. He was so tempted to pull out the plug and fuck Spy. His own body was aching and everything was moving so fast, he couldn’t stop to consider that he’d never done this with a prisoner before. He’d never given in to these sexual needs that were boiling over and demanding release.

The dominant man could only hold himself back enough to test his partner’s interest. He reached out to touch the base of the plug, to move it inside Spy to see if he enjoyed it still.

Spy let Engineer toy with the base of his plug. He loved it, he always loved it, even completely spent, he loved the sensation of the movement inside him. The plug was so close to satisfying an itch in his mind, a lingering, unobtainable concept. A need to feel an intense pressure deep inside of him.

The Frenchman knew how it felt to be filled, of course. Spy had been fucked before by men. Some who desired him and were useful enough for Spy to be compliant, and some whom he targeted and welcomed into his body for leverage.

They had all nearly satisfied that need, filling him up and making him feel their unyielding penetration. But those hard and careless fucks couldn't compare to the plug filling him so smoothly and massaging his walls so gently. 

Spy rolled over onto his stomach and raised his hips.

The fresh red lines from the caning still coloured his ass and intersected with the roses on his thigh, but the pain was lost in the fog of sensations as the stimulation inside of him filled his world. Spy expected Engineer was pulling the toy out and although he regretted losing the penetration, the removal was nearly as satisfying as the insertion. He pressed his face to the bed to prepare to feel that very wide flare again and let himself open up wide for a final time.

Engineer admired the handsome red mark on Spy's neck, and when the man rolled over, he felt a little pride looking over the welts and bruises he sported across his ass and thighs. Spy rolled as though he knew what Engineer was thinking. As though _ begging _ to be fucked. Engineer couldn’t say no to an invitation like that. He gently removed the plug, putting it to the side. He took the lube again and poured some on his cock, giving it a few strokes to coat himself.

Spy started to relax to the bed again, but followed Engineer's guiding hands on his hips. 

Engineer got onto his knees, pulling Spy back up against his hips, lining his cock up with Spy's open, relaxed hole, and slowly pressed in. His cock was thicker than the plug, and it took some time for Spy's body to accept him, even after being spread by his toy. Engineer needed to enter the man slowly and let the tight ring of muscle squeeze and resist him and finally accept him. He stayed stubbornly still as the body around him adjusted, but it was worth it. It was such a relief to feel his cock wrapped in Spy's hot, slick body, everything narrowed just to that sensation for a time. "Fuck," he breathed. 

Spy gasped and arched his back up like a cat as he stretched wider to accept the girth. But the Engineer's path was slow and careful and Spy let himself relax again, his breath escaping in a sigh. Engineer's cock was incredibly thick, but the plug had prepared Spy enough that the new penetration didn’t tear or hurt him. It was an exciting challenge. Not painful, luckily. Excitement pooled in Spy's stomach, and despite being fully spent, he was not numb to the mental satisfaction Engineer was causing in him. Engineer's cock was satisfying that elusive need, that concept in his mind, that desire he pursued: to be spread open wide and full, and let that penetration go deep through his body. Spy had a feeling that Engineer's cock could become his new favourite toy. He hoped to feel it again when he was still hard. He was desperate to climax with the feeling of Engineer inside him.

Engineer went slow, even after Spy was opened up for him. It was the most gentle, careful fuck he’d ever given. But he was satisfied deep in his core from hurting Spy earlier. He didn’t need to hear Spy whimper or hold back groans of pain while being fucked. He only wanted to see Spy enjoy this feeling now.

Spy’s gasps went straight to his dick and he groaned. “That’s it,” he praised, “Nice and easy.” He was closer than he wanted to be. Everything he’d done with Spy brought him closer to the edge, even before he’d stripped off his clothes. Engineer ran his hands over Spy’s welts and other marks. He dug in his short fingernails to make him writhe and cry out. 

Spy squirmed under Engineer's attention and the black cat on his shoulder writhed too. Engineer's hold on Spy's hips let his thumb brush over his old and blurry Russian tattoo, _ пе́дик _. The fingernails dragging over Spy's welts broke the rhythm of gasps, whines, and whimpers and made him cry out sharply and rock forward to get away from the abuse. Spy reached back to apply tender attention with his fingertips and soothe the new lines made by Engineer's nails. Spy's other hand reached up to grip the headboard and push back, driving himself onto Engineer's cock again. The Frenchman wasn't going to let a little rough treatment scare him away from memorising every detail of his filled-up body.

Engineer relaxed to let Spy thrust himself back onto the cock penetrating his body. His own orgasm started from deep in his stomach, flooding him with pleasure as he filled Spy with his cum. He looked down at the debauched man almost affectionately. His satisfaction was bone deep. “You did good,” he praised, before making himself comfortable next to Spy.

Spy sank down to the bed and continued to lie on his stomach. He let his eyes close while he tried to commit every detail to memory. If Engineer never did this again, Spy was going to replay this encounter every time he touched himself, for a long time.

When he went over every detail, he saved even Engineer's praise in that sweet Southern tone. There was only one thing missing from the narrative written in his mind. 

Spy opened his eyes to study his partner’s relaxed features. He lifted an eyebrow and asked, "What do I call you now?” Monsieur Conagher simply didn’t suit the man. Even an American title such as Mister Conagher didn’t work. Spy spoke as his hand moved to touch Engineer’s body with appreciation. “We are not truly our class names anymore. TFI is gone. And anyway..." he smirked, "I think we are past such formality. This isn’t a professional relationship any longer."

Engineer caught his breath, slowly. He considered Spy’s words silently for a time. His response came out teasing. “How about ‘sir’?”

It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but Spy was mellow and calm and the suggestion made him laugh warmly. The rogue looked over Engineer, considering it. Engineer was a younger man, and his features could be so soft, especially when he was totally spent and satisfied. But Spy knew the dominant and commanding nature of this man very well by now.

When Engineer forced Spy down to the floor and forced him to stretch his neck to look up at him and admire his size and strength, he perfectly wore the title ‘sir.’ Spy smiled at the idea and didn’t understand the butterflies of excitement at the thought. He answered, "Maybe."

Engineer barely considered putting Spy away before falling asleep, Spy pulled in against his chest.


	13. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we get a visitor

_ Spy didn't resist at all as his mentor carefully buckled him into a sturdy chair with heavy leather straps. It wasn’t comfortable at all and the lean man didn’t need to fight against it to know it wouldn’t budge. He suspected that this chair had been taken from a prison and used to have a metal cap for executions before coming to this base. The chair itself was not deadly, but it still had a very ominous look. _

_ Spy knew he was at the total mercy of his mentor. But it barely felt dangerous. _

_ "You don't seem nervous," the older spy commented as he ran a very thick strap around his student’s chest and biceps.  _

_ The younger Spy was nervous. This was his first of many sessions to resist torture. He couldn't imagine how this was supposed to work. He couldn't begin to imagine the pain of torture. He tried to imagine his worst pain and expected that this would be worse. But it was only a vague concept. "You will be here to coach me, no?" Spy confirmed.  _

_ "Yes, but it won't lessen the pain," his mentor admitted.  _

_ Spy understood that. But he suggested with a hopeful smile, "But you'll stop her if it becomes too much."  _

_ "No."  _

_ Spy became tense and pulled at the leather restraints. "No? Who will stop her?"  _

_ The classic Spy slid his apprentice's tie loose. "No one controls her. The Pyro will stop when she likes."  _

_ Spy struggled uselessly against the leather restraints he’d allowed to be placed. "Wait, s'il vous plaît!" _

_ Gentle hands unbuttoned his shirt down to his navel and spread it to expose his skin.  _

_ "What if I'm not ready?! What is it that she will do to me?" Spy asked desperately as his mentor's delicate fingers rolled up his mask, past his neck and chin, and tucked it in his mouth. Spy could say nothing and do nothing now as his mentor went to the door and opened it. _

_ The classic Pyro was unmasked and grinning cruelly as her eyes settled on her newest victim. She was leaning her weight on a hot poker as she pulled the trigger of a blow torch in her other hand to hear the roar of the fire. _

*

Spy hardly stirred when Engineer woke up. He was getting used to Spy being awake before him, but the previous night must have worn him out completely. The younger man let himself admire his captive’s lean body. When the taller man slept on his back, the welts and bruises Engineer made were not visible. But older marks were. Engineer’s eyes traveled over old scars touching Spy’s chest and ribs.

He was experienced enough in hurting spies to know the marks were from the tip of a coal poker, made hot over an open fire. But even if he didn’t know that, he could guess they were burn marks when he saw the brand of the Classic Pyro burned into Spy’s neck.

Engineer wanted to dislike the brand, the common signature of the classic’s cruel work. It was too boastful, maybe, to put a signature on the people you tortured. Or maybe, he simply disliked that it was someone else’s mark.

Engineer felt remarkably good, but he was conflicted by these thoughts. He shouldn't be fucking Spy. He shouldn't be enjoying Spy like this. It would make him lenient, and it would make Spy less afraid of him. He needed Spy to still be afraid of him. Today would be different. He didn't need to bring them downstairs to do what he intended, but it would certainly help break Spy if he did. The basement was a trigger for Spy's fear. 

They ate breakfast as they usually did, with Spy on the floor and Engineer at the table. Once they were finished, Engineer dragged Spy down to the basement, heedless of his protests and reasoning and attempts at bribery through seduction.

The spanking bench was, as he'd predicted, not in great shape after all that water. He'd likely have to build a new one. But the metal tables would work just as well. They were tall enough that when Engineer bent Spy over one of them he could leave the man unbalanced, his legs hanging, his toes barely able to reach the floor. 

Spy's panic increased as Engineer dragged him through the dungeon. He tried to reason and beg but didn't get any response from his captor. Everything about the moment had him unbalanced. His feet couldn't find a good footing on the floor, the cold surface of the metal table chilled him and forced him to squirm in an attempt to get away.

Engineer held him there with his gunslinger, brought back his flesh-and-blood hand, and began to spank Spy, as he had their very first time down in the basement. He was curious to see if Spy would cry again.

The heavy hand slapping his exposed cheeks stung deeply to his core. Spy kicked blindly behind him as the heavy hand came down again, but his heel punched through the air without making any connection and he finally stopped fighting. His legs simply kicked and twisted in the air in response to the pain.

Spy went through his mind as much as he could, interrupted every second by another spank. He couldn't understand why Engineer was doing this. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why every step forward with intimacy was met with subjugation. Spy couldn't know that he was suffering for Engineer's slow journey, coming to terms with his own weakness for the Spy he invited to his bed

Spy twisted his hips as much as possible under the gunslinger and cried out, "What did I do? What do you want me to do?!" He desperately wanted to believe this was one of his captor’s games. That he needed to confess some secret or obey some subtle command and the pain would end.

Engineer had no answer for him. He wasn't sure he even had an answer for himself when he asked the same thing. He didn't want Spy to do anything. He wanted Spy to be confused and frightened and utterly powerless. Spy couldn't get too comfortable here. But he also liked to fuck Spy, to hold and praise him. It wasn't an easy position to be in, nor could he explain it to Spy without sounding completely unhinged. He got lost in the rhythm of his blows and the cries of his enemy.

Spy’s protests and pleas finally gave in to simple and wordless weak cries. He hung his head to let his forehead rest on the cold metal surface under him.

They were down there for longer than Engineer had expected. Time slipped away without him noticing it. 

There were no sounds besides the spanks and Spy's growing cries, at least no sound that could be heard over those. When Engineer stopped for a moment a very clear footstep was heard. 

BLU Spy stood partially on the staircase, clearly anticipating another slap to cover the sound of his first step into the room. 

RED Spy jerked his head up and stared wildly at his enemy counterpart. He reached behind himself to attempt to wrestle away the gunslinger on his back while he wiped his eyes dry with his other hand, but he didn’t trust himself to say anything.

Engineer callously twisted his Spy's arm up higher behind his back to keep him still.

The BLU spoke to Engineer, although his eyes never left Spy. "I believe you were expecting me. I decided to let myself in.”

The Texan turned to look at the man who’d interrupted him, finally facing him and unhappy to do so. "Of course you let yourself in," he said. "You spies are all the same." 

"I brought the documents you requested." He slipped his hands into his pockets and approached cautiously. "I didn't think I would be interrupting anything.”

Engineer pulled the naked Spy down off the table and forced him to his knees. "Stay down," he instructed, walking to the bottom of the stairs to meet the BLU. "Don’t get excited, it's easier to break someone who's naked and humiliated." He needed to be careful with how much he said, or how much he allowed his teammate to say. Too much information could ruin the entire operation if the RED put it all together. 

The broader man looked over his old teammate, sizing him up in an intimidating way. "I'd be happy to let you experience my methods." It was somewhere between a threat and a friendly offer, and even Engineer wasn't entirely sure which it was. He felt angry at having been interrupted, angry at being interrupted when his head was swimming with power and he was finally working through these confusing feelings for his captive.

BLU Spy chuckled and carefully remained out of reach, "An interesting offer, but I must decline." He stepped around Engineer to approach the RED spy. 

The Red scowled up at his counterpart but obeyed Engineer's direction to stay. 

« _ Vous avez mauvais mine _ !» thé BLU Spy said with deep amusement. « _ Mais... mieux que d'habitude! _ » he laughed. 

« _ Tais toi _ » Spy growled softly, too embarrassed to defend himself.

His enemy squatted down, not letting the dirty floor touch his suit. He held the captive's face in his hand and warned, « _ Vous devez être poli. Je peux vous blesser, si je veux... peut être _ .»

The BLU Spy pushed the RED back as he stood up and looked at Engineer.

The Texan didn't need to know French to know that these men were not making a friendly greeting. Things might be dangerous by the BLU's tone. 

"Engineer, I have some old business I would like to settle with my counterpart, if you don't mind." The spy smiled devilishly. "Perhaps while you review the files I delivered, I can try my own methods on your guest."

"I do mind." Engineer's response was immediate. His mind scrambled for a decent explanation that wouldn't give his actual goals away to the RED Spy kneeling on the hard floor. "I prefer not to be interrupted in my workspace, either." He decided it would be easier simply to push out his ex-teammate. The BLU had never seen Engineer's darker side, but he could if he remained. "Next time you trespass like that, you might be staying longer than you intended."

RED Spy pushed himself up onto his knees with a look of absolute relief. He was spared this humiliation, to be abused at the hands of his oldest enemy. 

But BLU Spy was surprised to be denied and didn’t take the rejection easily. He persisted, "This Spy and I have quite a long history. And the score between us isn't settled yet." He smiled, with his most disarming and charming expression. "Allow me just ten minutes, and those pliers on the wall."

The prisoner spy was not bound or gagged but he felt helpless. He remained on his knees but was shivering, no matter how brave he tried to look. Despite knowing better, he looked to his own captor with a hopeful expression for help.

The RED's relief and helplessness didn't escape Engineer's notice. He saw the man trembling on the floor. He could probably fight back if he wanted, could have done more than growl back at the BLU Spy when he threatened him, but he didn't dare. Fear and trained obedience kept him still and kneeling. Engineer had earned that obedience and he wouldn’t share it with anyone.

"Give me the file and get out." Engineer's tone was final. He felt possessive, almost protective of his prisoner. No one was going to touch the RED but him.

The BLU waited for a full second, and it suddenly felt like the longest second of the prisoner's captivity here. 

But finally the BLU masked man nodded and said simply, "The file is on the table upstairs." He very cautiously walked around Engineer to the stairs, speaking quietly to remind the Engineer of who they worked for, and possibly to put him in his place. "He isn't yours,  _ Monsieur _ ." He glanced back at Spy, grinning again to say « _ A bientôt _ » before exiting.

Spy was frozen in place on his knees as he heard the steps move away. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until he heard the door shut and he folded down, his forehead on the floor to sigh in relief. Spy didn't know why Engineer refused his ex-teammate although he was very grateful he did. Spy knew by now that nothing persuaded Engineer aside from his own mind. He lifted his head and breathed, "Thank you, sir."

Engineer nodded, going to kneel before Spy and put his hand on his head. He remained there for a moment before stepping back, heading up the stairs. "Come," he called back. He headed up to the garage, leaving the door open for Spy to follow him in. Once there, he pointed to a spot on the floor and snapped his fingers.

Spy followed Engineer on his hands and knees without a reminder. Although pain and punishment often made him submit, now it was mercy that earned his total obedience. Spy was determined to deserve the kindness given and not let his captor regret it. He went to the indicated area and knelt without complaining, positioned so he was ready to wait or ready to respond.

"Eyes closed," Engineer instructed. He rifled through his box of toys and implements.

Spy felt a soft length of cloth settle over his eyes and then he was fully blind, eyes open or not. Next came a gag, not a round one, but a long cylinder that he could bite into. It would muffle his words, but it was still possible to make noise around it. Lastly, a heavy pair of headphones closed over his ears and he was deaf to the world. 

Spy whimpered around the gag when the headphones were added. The effect was very much like being in his cell underground. His arms and legs were not bound at all. He was capable of moving if he chose to. But he was certain he could feel eyes on him and he didn't dare to remove the blindfold or try to go anywhere. 

In this silence, Spy considered the words he’d overheard. ‘He is not yours.’ The phrase was simple but certainly full of meaning. His counterpart was speaking on behalf of spies to remind his captor that one cannot own a spy. One can capture a spy, and hurt a spy, but ownership... 

Engineer let Spy sit for a time, just watching the naked man, whose only senses right now were touch and smell. He sat in front of him for quite awhile. Finally he reached out and stroked gentle fingers down his chest, over his nipples. He toyed with that piercing he liked so much, and then slid his hand down to fondle Spy's cock.

His skin jumped under Engineer's hand and then relaxed as he found the touch to be gentle. Spy raised a hand and carefully placed it on the back of Engineer's warm hand to subtly, very subtly, welcome his touches. A bruise was beginning to form around his wrist where the gunslinger had forced his arm up behind his back earlier, but it didn't bother Spy while he was this gentle. Spy's cock twitched and slowly responded to the simple stimulation.

Engineer took his hand away once Spy started to respond, leaving him in the dark and quiet again. 

Spy's hand followed his at first, then dropped to his thigh to match the other one. 

He gave Spy some time alone again, preparing things. 

What felt like a clamp settled around Spy's unpierced nipple, and suddenly he felt a hot pain as Engineer slid a thick needle through it.

Spy didn't understand what was happening at first and twisted away from the clamp—but he couldn't go far and not feel as if he was tearing his own skin off. He made his discomfort very verbal, muffling panicked cries around the gag. When the needle passed through the nub of flesh, he screamed. He didn't immediately recognise what the feeling was, he just knew it was painful. It wasn't until he felt the metal post sliding through his skin, that bizarre feeling of being opened up where there was no orifice to open, he realised he was being pierced. He reached for Engineer again, looking for anything to brace himself on. His chewed-blunt nails scratched at Engineer's forearm. His perfect false teeth bit the gag as hard as he could without causing himself more pain. 

The BLU Spy was wrong for saying Spy wasn't Engineer's. In that moment, Engineer was his entire world. There was no light or unusual crack in the ceiling to look at, there was no hum of lights or a generator outside, and there were no words from Spy. His entire world was Engineer and the feelings he gave him to experience.

Engineer let Spy grip him. He’d been wanting to do this since he first saw the piercing on Spy's nipple. He affixed the barbell carefully. There was a tiny smear of blood, and it was red with pain, but otherwise it looked good. Engineer didn't touch it after, but he ran his hand over Spy's other nipple again, before bending to draw it into his mouth, sucking at it. His hand dipped down to Spy's cock again, stroking him.

Spy had known Engineer liked his nipple piercing since he’d first noticed it and complemented it. Perhaps Engineer only liked it to torment him and toy with the sensitive flesh. Maybe Spy would be less flattered by the praise if he knew the attraction could cause such pain. Spy whimpered as the mouth closed around his nipple. The hand fondling his cock excited him, but Spy couldn't read Engineer's expression, ask him anything, or hear any answer. Engineer could choose to be gentle now that he’d made his mark on the Spy. Or he could choose to truly hurt him and tease his newly pierced flesh. Spy whimpered around the gag, begging the Engineer to be kind.

Engineer heard the tone, the pleading whine of it, and he smiled. He would be lenient, and gentle, now that he had what he wanted. Spy was  _ his _ , Spy wore a mark from him. Though Spy couldn't see it, the tips of the barbells were not simple round balls, they were something Engineer had crafted himself. Both ends were an open-end wrench head, matching the Engineer class symbol. It had been quick enough to make, but he was still rather proud of them. 

He kept his tongue and lips gentle on Spy's nipple, toying with the healed piercing. His hand stroked Spy steadily.

Spy started to roll his hips into Engineer's hand, allowing himself to give in to the attention. The sexual attention after the very rough beginning was a surprise, but with no other clues, Spy chose to see it as a reward for his obedience. The teasing attention on his old piercing was always balanced between something pleasurable and something painful. It was always very sensitive, definitely. 

He started to let his shoulders fall back and relax, exposing his chest as he rocked his hips forward. But every so often Engineer used his teeth in such a way that Spy flinched and whimpered. But his cock never softened despite the nature of the attention.

Engineer let Spy fuck his hand, stroking him faster as Spy's noises became a little more frantic. He eased off of Spy's nipple for a time, keeping his teeth away, using only his tongue and lips. He pulled back and breathed against it. He loved watching Spy react to the only thing he could sense: whatever Engineer did to him. He was achingly hard. Once Spy had cum, he wanted to rip that gag out and fuck his mouth.

Spy was sharing the Engineer's thoughts. The warm mouth on his nipple only made him think of what it would feel like around his cock. His head rolled back as he only imagined it. Engineer's tongue was slow and persistent; he imagined the little flicking motion over the head of his cock, teasing the eye as if to work it open only to leave it alone as it started to hurt. Spy imagined those lips sucking, and the teeth of his lower jaw scraping his cock, only enough to make his heart race. His cock twitched at the vivid thoughts that surrounded him, easily able to imagine anything when his world was only Engineer's mouth, his calloused hand, the fresh piercing, and the burning on his buttcheeks. Spy whimpered wordless begging around the gag to make the fantasy playing in his mind a reality.

Engineer loved listening to Spy’s pleading sounds and murmurs. He wanted to be rough again, to bite and leave marks, but he knew Spy was tender. He’d give him a little tenderness after the pain of the piercing. Engineer lifted one of the headphones from Spy’s ear, and whispered against his ear, “Cum for me.”

Spy gasped sharply at the deep, accented words in his ear. It was the same deep voice that Engineer had used simply to order, ‘Come.’ He nodded eagerly, groaning around the gag and biting into it again as he thrust his hips faster. Spy pushed himself over the edge and spilled into Engineer's palm with a low groan.

Spy came as he’d commanded him and Engineer let the headphone rest over his ear again, blocking out the sound. He stood, taking a nearby rag and wiping the cum off his hand. He looked down at Spy, panting and overwhelmed on the floor. He took out the gag carefully, and unzipped his pants, taking his erection out and giving himself a few strokes. Putting his big hand on Spy’s head, he guided his cock to the man’s mouth.

Although the gag hadn’t stopped Spy from breathing, it seemed easier to breathe now without it. While he breathed deeply he found Engineer filling the opportunity with his cock. Startled, Spy put his hands on Engineer's hips and pushed himself away for breath. Of course Engineer was hard, logic reasoned. And he would want satisfaction also, that was understandable. 

He held onto Engineer's hips and didn't let him go. He caught his breath again quickly and searched for the cock jutting to his face to take it into his mouth again.

Engineer helped guide Spy’s mouth to his cock again after he stopped to take a few frantic breaths. If he’d merely pushed him away instead of holding his hips, Engineer might have forced his way in, but he was glad he didn’t have to. His hand stroked over Spy’s hair and he groaned. Spy wouldn’t be able to hear it but he might be able to feel the vibration of it. Engineer found Spy’s lack of sight and hearing liberating. “That’s it, boy, you just love every second of this, don’t you? I could do my best to break you and you’d still be on your knees, waiting to take my cock,” he murmured. His fingers braced against the back of Spy’s head and he began to fuck his mouth more forcefully.

The size of the cock filled Spy's mouth and teased his throat when he started working his way down the length. Maybe it was the blindfold, but the cock felt much larger now than it had ever felt in his hands. It required some genuine effort to relax his jaw open and also provide constant attention with his tongue. When Engineer held his head and started to fuck his face, Spy struggled to keep up. His slim hands pressed against Engineer's hips to control his pace, but in his situation he could expect he wouldn't have control. Spy writhed on Engineer's cock as much as when he was fucked from the other end. He gulped and swallowed when Engineer hit the back of his throat, pumping the tip with a sucking column of muscles. He squirmed when he was fighting for breath and gasped when Engineer started to pull out, leaving his mouth open and free for the returning thrust. But Spy never turned his head. He’d fantasized about fellatio while Engineer pumped his cock and this was almost enough to satisfy that need.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” Engineer growled. “I’ve been wanting to do this for years,” he admitted. He eased off a little when Spy seemed to choke for breath, relaxing his hands so Spy could pull away just enough for air. “You look so good like this. Just the way you were meant to be, stuffed fulla cock.” He pumped his hips a little, thumb stroking over Spy’s cheek affectionately, possessively.

Spy was deaf to everything Engineer was saying, but he felt the man ease off when he started to gag. Spy softened his own hands on Engineer's hips, pulling him in deeper, totally unaware as Engineer praised him as someone made for this. A chill ran down Spy's back as the finger stroked his cheek. His eyes rolled up but he saw nothing. He wished he could see the man's expression and know if Engineer was taunting him, or telling him to work harder, or if he was simply satisfied. Spy pushed himself farther on the cock, his nose buried into the soft hairs of his pubis. The head of Engineer's cock was in Spy's throat now, whether he was thrusting in or pulling out, and the Frenchman was swallowing repeatedly to do his best to keep him there.

It didn’t take long for Engineer to cum, feeling Spy swallowing around him eagerly. He kept swallowing after Engineer came, until he pulled away. Feeling worn out, Engineer pulled a chair over to where Spy was kneeling and sat. He leaned Spy’s head against his thigh, stroking his hair. He praised him quietly, knowing Spy couldn’t hear a word of it.

Spy rested on Engineer's leg and let him recover and didn't remove his blindfold and headphones no matter how desperate he was. He was certain the scene was over, and Engineer filled his senses, whichever ones existed still. Spy tasted his seed, smelled his jeans, and felt his piercing, his glowing ass, and kind palm on his head.

It took Engineer a few long minutes to recover, and it was only then that he undid Spy’s blindfold and took off the headphones.

When the blindfold came off he looked down at his chest to inspect the Engineer's work on his chest. A small bar that appeared like a wrench penetrated his body. Engineer had been breaking him down since he’d arrived and was starting to build him back up again. But Engineer wasn't interested in building a cunning and dangerous spy. Engineer was making a man perfectly crafted for serving him. The BLU Spy was wrong. Maybe the man who’d first arrived here did not belong to Engineer. But the man he was now definitely did.


	14. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy gets offered something that sounds nicer than it really is.

_ The spy-in-training breathed deeply and the smoke that filled his lungs made them burn, and he nearly coughed. The cherry at the end of the cigarette lit up brightly with the rush of air and his mentor, beside him, crouched down under cover. _

_ “Put that out before we’re seen!” the older man hissed. _

_ His apprentice pinched the cigarette to remove it but took another long drag as a farewell for the time being. It lit up brightly, again. _

_ His mentor warned, “A proper sniper can see that, glowing in the dark, from kilometres away. You need to find something else to fill that fixation.” _

_ The young spy took the cigarette and placed it down gently on a rocky ledge to return to at a later time. _

  
  


*

Spy woke up to bright warm light. The storm had finally passed and the captive saw more sunlight than he’d seen in weeks. Was it weeks? He wasn't sure how long he’d been here. He wasn't sure how long he would stay here. Engineer seemed to have a very deep hatred for spies, but last night suggested he might overcome that.

The previous night Spy fell asleep without even wanting a cigarette. He looked down at his chewed fingernails, his source of relief when he lacked cigarettes, but he didn’t feel the need to chew at them either. He didn’t feel a weakness for his anxiety-induced oral fixations, cigarette or otherwise.

Spy wished he could understand this strange and naked sense of calmness inside him. It made no sense at all. This was, undeniably, a high-stress situation. Whenever Engineer loomed over him, he knew this man had the power to truly hurt him, or even kill him. That fear wound itself tighter and tighter inside of Spy and then, somehow, somewhere between the start of the pain and now, the fear vanished and took all of Spy’s anxieties away.

Spy knew Engineer had cigarettes. The box was on the nightstand farthest from Spy. Despite that he didn’t particularly need one, or even want one, he planned to take one. If he must have a dependency, he chose to be dependent on cigarettes, not Engineer. He leaned over Engineer very slowly and stealthily to reach the nightstand.

Engineer woke to Spy leaning over him. He flinched first, then reacted by grabbing Spy by the shoulder and throwing him back down to his side of the bed, leaning the weight of his elbow on him.

Spy grunted as he was forced down under Engineer's weight. He fought back at first, simply acting instinctively, and pushed his arms up against the American's much thicker arms, but he couldn’t free himself. He remained under Engineer’s weight and watched him, waiting for whatever he did next.

It took Engineer a second to realize what had happened, and to relax a little. He'd fallen asleep with Spy loose, not cuffed to the bed, not in his cage, nothing. Just worn out after sex. He'd had sex with a spy. If his family had ever imagined he would do something like this, he would have been disowned. 

He felt emotions rising in him. Disgust and shame, a strange satisfaction, and strangest of all, a possessive sort of affection for his captive. He wasn't sure what the right word was, or if there even was one, but part of him_ liked _Spy.

Engineer liked hurting him, yes, but also he liked seeing him in subspace. He liked seeing him out of his mind and barely lucid from pleasure and pain. It started as a clever strategy to wear Spy down and leave his mind floating, but Engineer was developing a strong need for the adrenaline rush of those scenes.

_ What am I doing? _ Engineer wondered with doubt and frustration. _ This isn't the professional behaviour of a Conagher interrogating a spy! This isn’t the method my father taught. This is completely inappropriate and unprincipled and... unethical? _

Truth be told, there had been some instances of sexual torture on the Conagher ranch, but it wasn’t done in order to get sexual satisfaction, or so he had been told, it was just another tool to break spies. Forcing a man to accept an anal plug in order to humiliate him was different than fucking his face. 

Though Engineer was fine with torture, there were some lines he had never felt comfortable crossing. So he hadn’t crossed them, until Spy. He'd started crossing lines with Spy some time ago, starting with the night he'd used that toy on him and watched him cum. 

Engineer couldn’t decide how to react to this, though. He debated if he wanted to punish Spy and make the seductive man afraid to ever tempt him sexually again by delivering some truly cruel abuse in the basement. He didn’t really want to. But he wondered if he should anyway, for the sake of maintaining his own power, regardless of his own part in the temptation.

Maybe he wanted to reward the behaviour with an easy day and more freedom, he considered. But that was unprofessional. At the same time, he needed Spy to relax around him, he tried to convince himself. He’d proven his authority to his prisoner; he could relax his grip and stop hurting him to let the man speak more freely.

Spy watched the intense expression in Engineer’s eyes, the depth of his thoughts as he was becoming lost in his own imagination. Spy struggled for a proper breath beneath the weight and commented, “Sir…”

Engineer released his position and sat back to allow the slender man beneath him to rise. 

The Frenchman sat up and massaged the muscles where Engineer weighed down on him. At the base of his neck his skin was stained dark, blooming with a fresh hickey from the previous night.

Engineer knew what he wanted. He wanted to build a fucking machine capable of delivering any kind of power he wanted, fast or slow, hard or tender. And he wanted to watch Spy ride it.

Until it was built, he could keep Spy in his workshop again. He would execute Spy before there was any risk of the man escaping with knowledge of these personal engineering projects Engineer liked to craft. But he shouldn't make it easy for Spy to spend a day beside him, he decided. He couldn’t afford to go easy on Spy, simply because he wanted to be near to his captive.

Engineer would give Spy a difficult task, or a stress position to hold. Something mentally and physically taxing so that Spy would be in subspace and tell his captor anything he wanted to know. And maybe they could fuck again after Spy was in subspace, after he earned it by sharing things Engineer wanted to know.

The series of fantasies were coming without ending now. He couldn’t keep away endless ideas. He had, in his possession, the most willing partner he’d ever encountered, someone to satisfy his sexual hunger after already satisfying his sadistic needs. He shook his head to try to keep the thoughts away.

Spy sat up and studied Engineer’s expression thoughtfully, in an attempt to read it. "Trouble sleeping?" 

Engineer hummed, understanding why Spy was looming over him, but then shook his head at his first question. "Slept well. Woke up with a Spy hanging over me, is all," he chided. 

Spy chuckled, "You don't trust me yet? You know we aren't enemies anymore." They might not be BLU and RED, but they were captor and captive. Despite the pleasant feelings rolling through him, Spy would plant a knife in Engineer's back if he had a chance. 

"Ought to’ve cuffed you last night." He stretched, standing up.

Spy gestured to the nightstand, although his eyes never left Engineer. "I was helping myself to a smoke." He rarely saw him from behind, but his muscles were handsome. They were thick, and strong, with a soft layer that begged for nimble hands to explore his contours.

"You're gonna have to earn that. Breakfast first." Engineer started getting dressed, still weighing his options in his mind, even as he tried not to think about it.

Spy didn’t like the basic labourer’s clothing. It hid all of Engineer’s best features. The Texan surely didn’t care at all, how much sex appeal he had while he was erecting dispensers. But what a pity, Spy thought, to hide his body under this clothing. "And clothing? Can I earn that?" 

"Mhm.” Dressed now, he snapped his fingers and gestured at the floor by his feet. He expected Spy to obey, immediately, even if he’d earned a very intimate reward last night. The cane was resting on his dresser, under his palm. He was ready, and possibly even eager, to use it if Spy needed to be trained daily to obey the same command.

The high crashed down as Spy was ordered to the floor, and his smirk sank. The previous day had been hard, and despite how sure Spy was that he would never break, he had. Enduring pain to protect the secrets of his team was a duty he held dear. But enduring pain to hold onto a useless sense of pride as a prisoner? It was easier, every time, to give in to Engineer’s demands.

He slid to his knees beside the bed with an amount of grace and fluid movement he couldn't manage yesterday for this humiliating task. He crawled to Engineer.

Engineer rubbed his hand over Spy's shorn head, praising him silently. Spy resisted acknowledging the praise at first, due to his own shame, but Engineer’s pride swelled as the bowed head leaned into his palm. He led them to the basement and opened the door for Spy to enter first. 

Spy froze in the doorway and leaned back onto the foot nudging him. The dark staircase into blackness was like a path to hell. Torture, exclusively, happened down there. Spy looked back at Engineer and wanted to argue. It was impossibly cruel for Engineer to bring his guard down and leave him squirming and cumming and then dehumanise him the next day! Nevermind his body, his mind couldn’t handle giving into his sexual needs only to suffer for it.

"Just need a few supplies." He smirked. 

Engineer's face wasn't cold and impassive. He didn't seem cruel. He seemed to just be collecting some tools, as he said. Spy reluctantly went down the stairs before Engineer.

The water was entirely drained now, and the floor was dry. Engineer left Spy at the bottom of the stairs after firmly pushing his nose to the wall and ordering, “Don’t move.”

Engineer opened a cabinet beside him and started gathering a few things to keep Spy occupied in the garage. Where Spy was, he couldn't see what Engineer was taking, but he wouldn’t know what was planned for him, even if he did see. Engineer put everything in a box, rested it against his hip, and started back up the stairs before releasing spy with a new order, “Come with me.”

Spy was quick to follow Engineer and was nearly treading on his heels to get out of the basement. They went directly to the kitchen next, where Engineer put the box on the table and made a simple breakfast for them both. He sat Spy at his feet. His food was served in a bowl on the floor again, but he gave him a spoon to eat it with. "You're going to help me in the workshop today," he told him.

Spy accepted his place on the floor without fighting, and he accepted the food without complaint today. Effectively, eating from a plate on the floor in the kitchen was the same as sitting on the floor of his cell to eat his food. Of course, the meaning now was different. Engineer sat beside him in a chair, eating from the table, reminding Spy of the difference in their power. Spy looked up to see the Texan's face when he spoke and leaned in, intrigued.. "_ Vraiment_? What does a man like you build when he isn't working for TFI?"

"I guess you'll find out when we’re done." Engineer smirked. 

Engineer cleaned up after their breakfast. He didn’t like the extra chore, but he took pride in a tidy working area, and that extended to every room of the base. With that done, they went to the garage and Engineer indicated where Spy should sit.

Engineer put his goggles on his forehead, ready to weld, and he fell into a different mindset.

When Spy was out of the way, Engineer began to get supplies out. Metal sheeting, some kind of padding, metal rods, bolts, and many other things besides. Once he had supplies laid out how he wanted them on the table and floor, he snapped his fingers for Spy and waited for him to crawl to his feet.

Spy approached as his keeper took a few things out of the box. Spy crawled to Engineer, almost eagerly, to see what tools the man had. He was disappointed with what he saw. 

Wrist and ankle cuffs of soft leather, first, then a collar of the same leather. The cuffs definitely came from the basement, and he wasn't sure how they possibly related to what they were building.

Engineer moved to put the collar on him. 

Spy swatted the hands away and leaned the other way. "_Non_." He looked up at Engineer with a hard and firm stare, declaring, "You debase me enough to imagine me as an animal. Don't fool yourself that you own me." His words were harsh, and full of indignant French passion and pride.

Engineer glowered when Spy smacked his hand away. It couldn’t hurt his gunslinger; he didn’t even feel anything but the pressure moving his hand. But he disliked that Spy was rebelling again. "It's this, or you can sit in your kennel today and wait until I’m done," Engineer stated.

Spy turned his nose up at the offer, but his expression completely changed. He was offended and too prideful to accept the collar. But he couldn’t bear being curled up and entirely dependent on another man for an entire day either.

Engineer laughed. Something he’d been considering suddenly came into words. "You can say yes to the collar, or you can use a safe word.”

Spy considered it in silence for a moment and then raised a brow, "A safe word? Do you mean to tell me that you come equipped with an ‘off-command’?” He equally seemed relieved, and yet annoyed that it wasn’t offered sooner.

“I’m giving you a safe word. You say the word, and I stop what I’m doing to you for a day.” Engineer adjusted his goggles to hide the smirk in his expression.

Spy hadn’t expected that Engineer would give him the power to end his games with a single word. Engineer did as he liked no matter how the spy fought him or resisted. But he couldn’t ignore how gently the man touched him after marking him with his new piercing. Spy wondered if it had softened Engineer. It had effectively endeared him to his captor, and was improving his treatment. "What is the word?"

There was a dark glimmer in his eyes, hidden behind the goggles, but he offered the word anyway: "Mercy." Spy had already cried it a few times when he had been helpless and hurting, it made sense to make that his word. He liked the added joke of it sounding like the French word for 'thank you.’ "Is that what you want?"

Spy suspiciously answered, “_Oui_, mercy.”

Engineer wordlessly set down the collar and led Spy out of the garage. He pushed him down the first few steps to the basement, then continued to nudge him down farther. At the bottom he simply grabbed Spy around the waist and threw him over his shoulder.

Spy was compliant, but suspicious, until he was lifted up. Then he started to fight. His nimble, hard fingers swept down Engineer’s sides in search of tender pressure points to assault, but the cold gunslinger coming to rest on his arse caused him to pause. 

“You better rethink that, boy,” Engineer warned.

He dropped him unceremoniously on his sleeping pad and closed the door behind him, giving Spy no mind when he protested. "That’s it for today, boy," he called through the door. "I'll see you when you're ready to play along, tomorrow."

Spy leapt at the door but it was locked shut, enclosing him in the darkness again. "Engineer, let me out! I'll play your damned games!" When he heard nothing he tried, desperately, the title Engineer had suggested last night. "Please, Sir!"

He’d survived the cold dungeon before, and he knew he could survive it again. But it didn’t make it any less unpleasant.

Spy was in the darkness again. It was all a greater insult knowing that the sun was rising on a beautiful day above him. Remembering that he had freedom here in his cell, to get his own water and use the toilet or move as he liked, meant nothing.

He wanted the place he earned at Engineer’s side.


	15. Spreader Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy gets to do some work

_ The Frenchman elaborately presented a platter holding a plate that was on fire, which he smothered with a gleaming metal cover. When he lifted the cover the flame was gone, revealing an expertly plated gourmet meal. “Herb-encrusted roasted Bress é chicken with a shallot and red wine reduction. ” _  
  
_His mentor nodded in approval and cut a small portion from the very thin piece of chicken. He dipped it in the colourful drizzle decorating the plate and tasted it. _

_ His apprentice was no longer breathing, only waiting. _

_ Finally the older man nodded. “Yes, this will do. If you insist on going undercover as the chef, I will allow it.” _

_ He felt hot with excitement and pride. He hoped his mentor might take another bite, or praise the sophisticated flavours of the dish, but he did not. The acknowledgement that he’d met his mentor’s very high expectations would need to be enough. _

*

Engineer held the door open for his prisoner and watched him in the dim light. “Feeling a bit more obedient?” he asked.

Spy pushed himself up from the wall and left the cell without waiting for a command, answering, "Yes, sir," with no malice.

Engineer grinned, rubbing Spy’s head as he passed. “Good boy.” He said it praisingly. He led Spy upstairs and to the kitchen for their morning routine. He let his prisoner walk through the cellar, but when they returned to the living area a crisp snap of his fingers directed Spy to his knees. “How hungry are you?” 

Spy stayed at his place by the table and watched Engineer take inventory of the food. He answered, "I am starving…” but the Frenchman had to admit with an expression of distaste, “but not for your variation of hot grains. Let me cook something, please."

Engineer raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Alright, I won’t complain about not having to cook.” He let the door of the refrigerator shut and sat at the table to carefully watch the Spy in the kitchen.

Spy was relieved to spend a little more time on his feet as he explored the tools available first. The offer was more self-serving than simply having a good meal. He looked through the simple tools and quickly decided this was not a personal home with all of the little things that collect in drawers and cabinets over years. This was a temporary dwelling. The knowledge was chilling.

The refrigerator and pantry were stocked with food. Enough to last a few more weeks. But the fruit was becoming soft, the vegetables wouldn’t last much more than two weeks. It was like viewing an hourglass of how much time was left. _ How much time was left before _ what _ ? _Spy wondered. Before Engineer tired of this game and released him? Or did he have darker plans?

Last, he checked on the knives. They weren't hidden or locked away. The prison was underground; this area lacked that security. The knives weren't terribly sharp, but Spy had killed a man with a pointed icicle before. He was resourceful.

Finally, Spy put an apron on and began to cook. 

Engineer chuckled, “An apron?”

The Frenchman nodded. “_Oui_. The best chefs know not to cook naked.” After a much longer preparation time than Dell often used, Spy delivered a savoury meal with garnishes and sauce.

Engineer watched Spy work, sure that he was thinking about escape. He could see the danger lurking in his pet. He’d seen that danger before, but it was as familiar as home to him. The Conagher ranch had livestock, like any proper self-sustaining farm, and those animals beckoned sneaky coyotes like the Conagher machines beckoned sneaky spies. Sometimes those coyotes watched him from a distance with flashing eyes in the dark, and sometimes they became brave enough to think of hunting Dell. Their wild eyes studied him for his weak points and they crept along the shadows towards him until he stood up and faced them. Even the bravest coyote never needed more than a hard, warning look and a menacing step to change its plans.

Spy didn’t even need that. Spy only needed to know Engineer was watching him to set down his knife and turn away from it. The spy feared him, and Engineer revelled in it.

Spy placed a plate in front of Engineer proudly. But for his own plate he hesitated, unsure now whether to place it on the table, or the floor. He looked at Engineerfor a hint. 

Engineer nodded to the seat next to him, deciding Spy might as well sit up at the table after making their meal.

Spy gladly sat down at the table. As he settled in, he realised it was the first time he’d been in a chair since he’d arrived here. 

Engineer had to admit, Spy’s cooking was worth the freedom he’d allowed. It was beyond his own talents to make a dish like this one. 

Spy, a world-class rogue, undercover agent, intelligence operative, was now a housepet. And his keeper never permitted a routine to be in place long enough that Spy could expect what was coming next. He was walking one day, and crawling the next. He was in a soft bed one day, and a kennel the next. He was eating from a bowl on the floor one day, and seated at a table the next.

Spy ate his food and tried to savour the moment and consider it a return to normalcy. Whatever normalcy was.

Their new ‘normal’ began as they entered the garage.

“You remember your choices?” Engineer prompted.

Spy nodded with a steady breath. He hoped that for all he’d suffered, alone in the cell, he would return to a fresh start. But he swallowed and nodded. “_ Oui _. I’ll wear the collar.”

“Good,” Engineer praised. He had wondered if Spy would be completely pliant or if he’d still resist this form of submission. He pulled Spy close and tightened the collar around his neck, but the man simply lifted his chin to allow the buckle to be fastened.

Spy found the tightness of the collar unfamiliar, and rather uncomfortable after so long without his collared shirt and tie. He suspected Engineer wanted to make it tight enough to make his prisoner very aware of every breath through it. There was no chance for Spy to forget or ignore the tight leather bondage on him.

The cuffs were next, and Spy allowed each hand to be taken and captured within the leather binding. Once the cuffs were on, he rubbed his wrists through the material and flexed his hands. "Satisfied?" he asked.

“Not quite,” Engineer chuckled. He took a long, thin metal rod and clipped it to cuffs and collar, so Spy was forced to keep his arms spread in a relaxed crucifixion stance.

Spy shuddered as the cuffs were each locked into place. He felt very vulnerable right now. He was simultaneously spread open and unable to recoil his arms, fully nude, and surrounded by tables and drawers of Engineer's tools. He steadied himself, taking slow breaths and asked again, "Satisfied?" His voice was more cautious than annoyed now.

Engineer nodded. "You ready to help?" He put his goggles in place and turned to face his project. The shell of the machine he was building was done, now he was working on the inner mechanisms. Engineer knelt down, putting some things in order.

Spy furrowed his brow. "I can help you more efficiently without this bar." 

Engineer said nothing, as if he didn’t hear him at all. 

Spy obediently answered the question he’d been given. "Yes, I'm ready."

Engineer looked up at Spy and responded to him now. "This ain't a matter of efficiency. We ain't building under a time limit. This tinkering is just for fun." He pointed to a tool on the wall. He assumed Spy wouldn't know the names of the tools. "Take that off the wall and bring it here."

Spy went to the collection and twisted his shoulders to reach over a desk to grasp the tool, but came up short. “I cannot reach anything with this bar restricting me.” His shoulders sank and he turned to look at Engineer. He’d thought he was becoming used to his own nudity, but this spreading position was reminding him anew that he could not hide any part of himself.

Engineer peered over the machine and said, “Try to take some pride in your work. You ain’t even trying.” 

The Frenchman didn’t like the sound of that at all and straightened up stiffly. He couldn’t argue, but he wanted to disagree. He was staring hard at the Texan as if to demand that he take back the words. 

Engineer shrugged. “Thought this would be easy for you, and you’d look good doing it.”

The Frenchman fumed. He’d trained for years to perfect his dexterity and poise. It was a slap in the face to say that he couldn’t do this. Even more insulting to say that he didn’t make his work look very good as he did it. 

He turned to the table again and stretched over it, folding his body at the hips and pressing close to the table to take the tool from the wall, and delivering it to Engineer.

“There you go. Stand there and look pretty ‘til I need you again.” Engineer barely seemed to look at him.

The bound man said nothing still. He didn’t know how to answer. He was sure that he was insulted. And yet, he was flattered. Spy hated to feel how much he was flattered. A deadly rogue shouldn’t be proud to look good in this state. But he stood in place and held his posture as he waited for the next direction.

"This is it? This is how you want me to help?" This wasn't comfortable but it was easy. It was much easier than spending a day, cold, wet, and tired in the basement.

"This is it," he confirmed. "Did you want it to be harder?" Engineer teased.

“_Non, monsieur_,” Spy answered.

Engineer held out the tool he was done with. “This goes back. Get the wrench next to it.” He pointed to the wall again, indicating another tool without even looking up. He knew where everything was without looking. Each tool had its outline traced on the pegboards. Everything was always in the same place.

Spy went to retrieve another tool and return the previous one, being very careful as he walked through the garage. A tool box in his path would make him fall with no way to catch himself, if he wasn't careful. But, more importantly, he wanted to look good doing these simple tasks.

But the task wasn’t always simple. The most difficult part was that Spy's spread arms were not free at all. When he went to the board hanging with tools, a work table was beneath it. Rather than reach forward, Spy needed to press his hips to the counter and lean forward and twist while reaching with one cuffed hand. He tried to focus on the tool he was trying to grip and not think of his very exposed backside as he bent over. He couldn’t see, but he was sure that Engineer was allowing himself small breaks from his work to watch as Spy bent himself over and squirmed on the table.

Spy returned with the tool and partially knelt to deliver it to Engineer's hand. Ignoring the strange contraption he must wear, the opportunity to watch Engineer create a machine was an incredible opportunity. With a memory and eye for detail like Spy's, he might be able to recreate or at least draw the details of what this was, and sell that intelligence for something.

Engineer didn’t refer to a blueprint once, despite how quickly he worked. He knew every part of this machine intimately, and worked as if he was assembling something he had only recently disassembled. He worked straight through until the evening again.

All of Spy's torso ached. His shoulders ached when he let his arms rest, his arms ached when he held up the weight of the bar, his neck ached when his arms became wobbly and put pressure on the tight collar around his neck. It was a stress test to maintain an unusual position of almost crucifixion, or else feel the bondage weighing into his skin. But Spy could endure it all, for now, with his focus on the machine they were building. 

Though the machine was taking shape, it was still impossible to tell what it was or what it could do. Engineer suddenly realized how late it was and laughed, getting up off the floor and stretching out, slowly. He looked Spy over. He’d been working silently, without complaint, for hours. Engineer was a little impressed. His arms must be burning.

Spy glanced at Engineer cautiously. "What's so amusing? Did we ... finish it?" He doubted that. He couldn't see any barrel to release bullets from, and couldn't understand how else it might be a weapon.

Engineer smirked. “Nah. Just about at a good stopping point, though.” He stood up, stretched, and placed an unplugged power tool in Spy’s hand. “Put this back where you found it, and we’ll take a break.”

The suggestion was promising. Except that Spy had found it on the wall with the power cord neatly coiled. And now? It was fully unraveled. He looked at Engineer as if he was waiting for an explanation.

Engineer simply demanded, “Wrap it up, boy!”

“I can’t,” Spy stated.

The younger man inclined his head. “No?”

Spy turned his head to look at the power tool with confusion and yet determination. With wonderful grace, he twisted and moved to gather the cord in one hand and the tool in the other. He twisted the cord around one hand, but when he reached the end of the cord, he had no way to fasten it from unraveling.

Engineer lifted his goggles and glanced at his watch. “You got another minute. Then I’m done waiting.”

Spy did his best for the remainder of the minute although they both knew he couldn’t succeed. 

Engineer shook his head, gesturing Spy over. “C’mere, let’s get you outta that.” 

The taller man knelt gracefully for Engineer and let the tool and cord be taken from his hands. The cuffs were removed, and then the collar, and he was freed from the bondage. 

But he hadn’t completed Engineer’s task, and he wasn’t surprised Engineer led him to the kennel.

Spy stayed at the entrance of the kennel and looked up at Engineer with a hopeful frown. 

But Engineer wasn’t softened. “Get in, I’ll bring your lunch to you here.”

The tall man crawled into the kennel and tucked his long limbs in to let the door shut. As promised, Engineer brought a bowl of food for him to have inside his kennel, but he didn’t stay to speak to him. The remainder of the day passed with very little human interaction as Engineer only permitted him out to wash himself and relieve himself once before locking him in for the night.

  
  



	16. Penny and the Stick

_ The spy in training stretched and crossed one leg neatly over the other. He did it slowly and carefully. The room around him was silent and motionless and after several minutes of nothingness, this new position was uncomfortable. He unfolded his legs again and rested his heel on the ground. _

_ This time there was a complaint on his ear piece, "I noticed that." _

_ The spy groaned, "How long have we been doing this?" _

_ "Since your last disruption... 45 minutes." His mentor answered. "Now be quiet. Focus on your breathing, and be completely still." _

_ "This wouldn't be so miserable if I could read a book, or listen to the radio." _

_ "Unfortunately, lying in wait often means lurking in a shadow without any entertainment at all." _

_ "You know I became a spy for the entertainment, no?" _

_ The older man chuckled, "Well, if you can't keep from fidgeting and talking on a job I am sure you will find some dangerous entertainment." _

*

“Are you ready to help me today?” Engineer asked when he came to fetch his pet.   
  
“ _ Mais oui _ . I was ready yesterday.”

“Too bad you couldn’t do those chores, hm?”

Spy looked at Engineer very critically, but was sure he was being taunted now. “ _ Oui, quel dommage _ … But it won’t happen again, sir.”

Engineer nodded. “Glad to hear it.” He unlocked the kennel and led the spy to the garage. In the threshold he stopped short and reached into his pockets to pull out a simple penny. “Stand up,” he commanded. 

The taller man rose to his feet and was quickly pushed flat against the wall, face in. Engineer presented the copper coin and stated, “Hold this to the wall, with your nose.”

Spy took the coin as though he would obey without questioning it. It was becoming easier to submit, every single day. But then he resisted. It seemed like a betrayal to give that obedience to anyone but his mentor. “How will that help you?”

“It’ll keep you out of my way,” Engineer answered simply. “Put your nose to the wall.”

Spy frowned to express his distaste for the order but held the penny in place before putting his nose to it. “ _ Comme ca _ ?”

“You got it,” Engineer answered as he guided Spy’s hands behind his back. The man’s boney elbows fit nicely into his own thin palms and the position prevented his prisoner from being sneaky in any way.

“You’re kidding,” Spy scoffed. “This ‘challenge’ is an insult to my immense capabilities. You are wasting everything I am capable of.”

Engineer stroked his calloused palm along the man’s ass. There were no welts or bruises from torture or even a recent punishment. So he simply closed his fingers around a soft part of skin and pinched it hard. “If you get bored, I can hurt you and see how long you can stay still.”

Spy yelped and lifted up onto his toes to get away from the pinch. The penny scraped on the wall but did not fall, even as his hips twisted and turned. “ _ Non! Non, merci!” _

“Mercy, already?” Engineer chuckled.   


“ _ Non!  _ No thank you, I said no thank you!” Spy answered desperately. 

Engineer released the pinch and went to his worktable.

Engineer kept Spy on his toes and even standing alone with the wall the captive was very slow to lower his guard. He breathed slowly and wondered how he came to be here. He wondered how long Engineer had thought of having his enemy under his control like this.

“This is all a very elaborate revenge scheme,  _ monsieur _ ,” Spy spoke.

"I'd love to say this was planned, on my part, but that'd be a lie," Engineer answered from his desk. Maybe it would have been better to make Spy think he was completely in control of everything here, that he had planned all of this to the last detail. But part of him wanted him to know, too, that this was just something that had happened, that he hadn't intended to be so interested in Spy.

"Are you making plans now?" Spy questioned casually, although he was definitely very interested. Strategically, he needed to know any hint of Engineer’s plan for the next few weeks. But personally, he wanted to know how much of Engineer’s attention was given to him. He shouldn’t be excited by the idea that his captor was thinking of him, it would only mean he was thinking of how to torment him. But it made him warm to think someone was thinking of him at all.

"Usually," Engineer admitted. "A lot of it depends on you, though."

The Frenchman chuckled, " _ Non, non, monsieur _ . It takes two to tango, don't put all this on me."

The Texan smirked but didn’t put much weight in the Spy’s words. “What are you getting at?”

“You want me in your bed again as much as I want to be pardoned from the cell and the kennel. Perhaps we can find an arrangement together that we consider mutually beneficial,” Spy suggested.

“Yeah? How am I gonna benefit?” the Texan asked, sure he knew where this was going. He wanted to give in to Spy, he really did. He wanted to indulge in that deep forbidden intimacy again.

The Frenchman made it clear: “If you like how we fuck already, imagine how you'll love it when I am at my best."

"Hah, last time we fucked you didn't do anything," Engineer teased. "You were just a damn mess."

Spy was embarrassed to hear it. But it was true. He was a puddle in Engineer's bed and he did nothing but react to the sensations happening inside him. He tried to stay composed, but it was clear that Engineer caught him off guard with that statement. 

Engineer chuckled. Even if he constantly had Spy on his toes, not expecting what came next, it was still nice to see him thrown by something.

Spy continued, “You know the term  _ quid pro quo _ ."   


"I do. What kind of deal are you proposing?" Engineer asked, only looking up from his gadgets for a moment to look over the spy. He still felt on edge, like Spy was trying to manipulate him into doing something more than just fuck him. He wasn't sure why he was even entertaining this conversation. If he was following his own rules, he would punish the spy now and give him a very hard paddling while forcing him to hold the penny to the wall.

But he wanted to know what Spy wanted. He wanted to keep playing with him. And he had already proven a subspace-Spy was talkative. Maybe a post-orgasmic Spy would be more useful still.

“There are some privileges I could earn," Spy answered. He wished he could see his captor’s face and judge his expression.

Engineer liked Spy begging softly—even if they were phrased as suggestions, Engineer was the one with the power. "You ain't getting any of your tech back," Engineer said decisively. "Otherwise, I don’t mind rewarding you for good behavior." He looked back to the spy, still obediently holding his elbows and pressing his nose to the wall.

The Texan didn’t like the idea of being in bed with someone who wanted something from him. He had very little patience for that type of manipulation. “What if I want you to wear the collar, and leash, as we fuck?” the American asked very crudely, waiting for his pet to refuse so that he wouldn’t feel bad at all as he didn’t entertain this idea of a deal any longer.

But instead, the spy agreed. “ _ Oui _ , I’ll wear that.”

As Engineer picked up the collar and leash from the dungeon box, he was already partially erect. He summoned Spy: “Come on, then.”

Spy went to him and Engineer opened the collar expectantly. 

The taller man lowered himself to his knees and let his keeper tighten the collar in place and affix the leash. 

He gave the leash a gentle tug just to let Spy feel it. 

He dropped the penny into the American’s palm, and then he went with him to the bedroom on his hands and knees.

Engineer couldn't help but admire Spy's lean body, his round ass, and the red mark that would become a bruise from the very hard pinch earlier.

Spy was ready, naked on the bed and reclining against the headboard as he watched Engineer undress. Spy beckoned his partner forward with a curled finger and a smirk. "Ready?"

Engineer sat on the bed, rubbing his organic hand over Spy, from his shoulder, down his chest and abdomen, to fondle his cock gently. 

Spy pressed into the hand while guiding Engineer more onto the bed and closing the distance between them until he was straddling him. A knee on both sides of Engineer's hips let the tips of their cocks touch. 

He grabbed the lubricant and pushed the container into Spy’s palm. 

Spy slicked the two remaining fingers of his left hand. The loss of his fingers did not seem to slow him down at all. 

They’d been gone for a long time, considering the faded scars. Engineer’s gunslinger twitched slightly, in sympathy.

Engineer let Spy straddle him, watched him start to work himself open for his cock. Engineer took both their cocks in his broad hand, giving them a few slow strokes.

Spy pressed his fingers into himself with little resistance—made easier by the hand pumping his cock to soothe him. Although the Frenchman was a very experienced lover, he rarely practiced this on himself. Most of his lovers were women, ‘in groups of eight,’ as he liked to boast. When his partners were not women, they were guards or jailers or otherwise men that he could use. But they were less interested in his comfort.

Engineer might be his captor, Spy acknowledged, but he was not a brutal lover. Despite the bondage and pain Spy was becoming accustomed to, Engineer did not restrain him in bed, or overpower him here. The American mercenary only wanted a willing partner for sex. It was an unexpected kindness that Spy was grateful for.

Spy worked his fingers deeply into his body and rolled his hips against Engineer's hand. He leaned into Engineer's chest with his free hand and purred into his ear a stream of romantic phrases in French. Every time his fingers spread his entrance open his voice dipped down, and every time he touched his prostate he gasped and stumbled over his words.

Though Engineer had no idea what Spy was saying, it sounded handsome, and he smiled a little as he listened. Even if he couldn't understand the words, he could hear the changes in his voice as he worked himself open. Soon enough Engineer’s cock would be getting those reactions out of him, and he was eager to hear it, and feel it. His gunslinger settled on Spy's hip, the leash wrapped around the metal palm, the cold metal hand keeping him close. He hardly had to stroke them, with Spy's hips rolling up into his hand, so eagerly. "You just about ready?" he asked. He didn't want to rush Spy's preparation, but it was getting harder to wait.

Although Spy was ready, almost desperate, he resisted giving in. He only needed to resist longer than Engineer to use his eagerness against him. "Feeling impatient?" Spy smiled down at him. "I can be persuaded to hurry... Permit me a phone call. Just a brief message to tie up some old business."

Engineer raised an eyebrow, his hand on Spy stilling. He jerked the leash hard. "You sure you wanna bargain with the man holding your leash?"

Spy grimaced, going along exactly where Engineer jerked the leash. With one hand still working himself open, he struggled to not land on his face. "Bargaining is how we came to this situation," Spy answered. "Quid pro quo.”

“If I want to fuck you, there’s nothing stopping me,” Engineer said, his voice low. His gunslinger tightened on the leash, making the leather creak in protest. “You get rewarded if I decide to reward you. You get punished if I decide to punish you. All you can do is try to stay on my good side and obey me. But what happens to you is my choice. Got it?”

Spy's heart was beating so hard that he heard it in his ears. After working at TFI for longer than a decade, he’d thought that nothing could fill him with the intense mixture of excitement and fear he felt during a dangerous battle. A part of Spy told him to quit now and submit. He might not earn a reward, but he would likely escape punishment. Instead, Spy smirked, quite pleased with himself as he stated, "You won't fuck me unless I initiate it, we both know. You don't want an unwilling partner in bed."

Engineer pushed Spy off, putting the end of the leash over the headboard. 

Spy removed the fingers from himself and frowned, knowing that he had pushed too far.

Naked and erect, Engineer took the cane that had been used to drive Spy on the floor when he was trained to crawl from the dresser. 

Spy recoiled. 

Standing in front of the bed, he summoned Spy over with a snap of his fingers. "Ass in the air," he said, coldly.

The lust in the Frenchman’s eyes disappeared, replaced by fear, and he shook his head, " _ Non!  _ I'm ready now, I'm ready for you! Please, come just back to bed, lay down!" He spoke quickly and desperately, talking over Engineer's words as if he didn't hear them, although the tone sent a chill through him.

Engineer laughed. "Awful quick to change your tone, ain't you?" He grabbed Spy by the leg and pulled him over, putting his ass closest to him. 

Spy gasped but he didn't resist Engineer. He’d found the Texan’s limit and he wasn’t going to test it again. 

"Let me see how open you are for me," he crooned, as though he might change his mind and fuck him instead.

Spy pressed his cheek to the bed and lifted his arse obediently. " _ Oui _ , I'm open for you. Feel me, I'm ready!"

Engineer let a hand smooth over Spy’s lower back appreciatively and squeezed his butt cheek to inspect him. Then he let go and took the thin cane to snap it directly over Spy's slick hole.

Spy gasped in horror, frozen for a full second before a shrill whimper escaped him. The cane made a terrible sharp pain when it was applied to any part of his body. But now, directly on his pucker, the pain was intense in a way he hadn’t known was possible, and it rendered him speechless while he recovered.

"Hopefully this'll remind you to keep your mouth shut," Engineer purred, snapping the cane again. It took so little to hurt him; he only had to brace the toy against his finger to let it pull back and swing forwards, hitting Spy's tender skin sharply. "Let's hear an apology," he laughed.

“I apologise!” The cane snapped him again and he yelped, “Please! I sincerely apologise! I should not bargain—ah! I’ll take what you give me—but not this,  _ s’il vous plait _ , please not this!”

If Spy had been able to look over his shoulder, he would have been shocked to not see Engineer swinging an arm. It felt as violent as the wide swings that made the cane hiss through the air. Spy didn't know how lucky he was that Engineer was restraining himself on such a tender area. The next snap made Spy shout, which turned into a whimper. He gasped for air and screamed, without thinking, "Merc—" He put his own hand over his mouth before he finished it. He gasped for breath and then poured out more words desperately, almost delirious from the pain, "I didn't say it! Don't stop, I didn't use the safeword!"

Engineer grinned as Spy restrained himself from saying their safeword. He'd learned his lesson after using it just once. "Well, since you don't want me to stop, I think you can handle more." Again, he used only his finger to sting the cane across Spy's asshole. 

Spy was relieved that he wasn't going to the basement, but it did not make the punishment any easier to endure. Each stroke brought a scream from him and he gasped for his breath in between. "Please, fuck me!" Spy begged. "Please, I beg of you!" He gasped for breath around a sob. "Sir!" Spy was desperate to get away from the cane and back to the seductive moment they were in earlier.

"If you're sure," Engineer said, once he'd finished the last smack of the cane. He hadn’t planned to carry on like this for long, and Spy’s begging did not encourage him to stop any sooner. If anything, Spy only made things more difficult for himself, begging to be fucked in his freshly caned hole.

He took the lube and slicked his cock up. Spy's hole was red where the cane had stung him, and Engineer was sure this was going to hurt. He pressed his cock in. He went slowly, as gentle as possible from his end.

Spreading his caned entrance open was an absolute torment. The tender skin was screaming and the cock sliding past those fresh welts was worse than when Engineer rubbed his thumb over fresh cane marks on his ass cheeks. But the moment that the head of Engineer's cock pushed past the sphincter, the sensations changed. Spy's softening cock returned to total rigidity in seconds. Spy couldn't moan or shout from what he felt yet. He only managed to gasp and swallow down dry sobs as the steady penetration overwhelmed him. At his entrance Spy felt like he was suffering the hardest fuck of his life, as every movement felt very hard on his fresh red marks. But the size and weight of the cock in him was filling him in the most incredible way, and exceeding everything he’d hoped for when he imagined feeling this again. Finally Spy responded with a simple, " _ Mon Dieu _ ," soaked in equal pain and pleasure.

Every motion Engineer made was exceedingly slow. He moved carefully, almost tenderly. He could hear Spy's breaths suck in like hisses with his thrusts. No matter how gently he fucked Spy, it was excruciating for him. Still, he could also feel Spy reacting positively. He rocked back into Engineer ever so slightly, and the words he finally managed to utter were torn between the two feelings. Engineer rolled his hips slowly, working deeper with each thrust until he was entirely sheathed in Spy. He kept his gunslinger on Spy's back, and reached around his hip with his other hand, taking Spy's hard cock in his hand and letting him rut into his fist.

The hand on Spy's cock was a blessed distraction to him. He rolled his throbbing cock into the palm with relief, and every bit of pleasure made the pain more manageable. It didn't lessen the pain or let him forget it, But in a very strange way, the pumping on his cock let the pain become fodder for his erection and fed the excitement of the moment. In brief seconds, when Engineer's cock slid over his prostate, his nerves couldn't find the difference between the caning and the deep penetration. Instead, his body saw it all as a burning heat around Engineer's cock. Spy couldn't make sense of what he was feeling inside of him, and for the moment he tried to  _ not _ make sense of it. The Frenchman forgot his promise of his allure and sexual skill and lowered down to his elbows and put his forehead on his fists, as though praying. He rolled his hips into Engineer's hand and pumped shallow and careful thrusts onto his thick Texan cock.

"That's right, that's it," Engineer praised him. He loved the feeling of Spy bucking into him, either fucking his hand or pressing back up into his cock. There was an eagerness to it that excited Engineer. Spy was right, he wouldn't want an unwilling partner, but Spy seemed happy enough to give himself entirely to Engineer, and he was happy to take advantage of that. Spy was so tight and hot and slick around him, Engineer had to slow down even further for a few moments, trying to hold himself back. Spy's body, wrapped tightly around him, felt so perfect, like he was made for it. When Engineer bottomed out in Spy, he seemed to shudder and spasm, tightening around Engineer. For a time he stilled completely, just letting Spy's careful back-and-forth motions do the work. 

Spy ignored the flaring, burning heat on his hole as he took Engineer deeper. Although it felt like the hardest fuck of his life, the cock inside him was the best thing he’d ever experienced. He knew he was not tearing or causing any harm that could not heal as fast as his other cane marks, and so he let himself sink deeper. When his ass cheeks met Engineer's lap, he stopped to realise he’d sheathed all of the length. Spy held him inside as long as his protesting welts allowed before starting to rock his hips into the palm around his cock. The Texan's cock was already so much more than Spy's toy. But he knew it could be even more if he could get him to move. Spy rocked his hips back onto Engineer a few times and begged, "Please, fuck me just like this."

"Alright, alright," Engineer laughed softly. Clearly Spy wanted him enough that the pain was worth it, or maybe the pleasure was making the pain bearable. Either way, Engineer began to thrust again, pushing in and drawing back out. He kept his pace slow for quite awhile, finally speeding up into an even pace. Still, he stayed gentle. The caning had been enough of a punishment. Engineer stroked Spy's cock in time to his own rolling hips. He only wished Spy was on his back, so he could watch Spy's face as he came. "You love this, don't you?" he murmured, rubbing his thumb over the head of Spy's cock to slick his hand with his precum. "No matter how much it hurts, you just love having my cock in your ass, don't you?"

Spy arched his back, raising his hips up to meet Engineer. There was no way to escape the painful friction on his entrance, but everything inside of him was incredible. He nodded eagerly to everything Engineer said. That rich Southern accent was so rich and warm, it made Spy's cheeks heat up. " _ Oui, mon Dieu _ , yes!"

Engineer laid out the facts clearly and read Spy like an open book. It was humiliating to be so obvious and lack any of the mystery he was so proud of. But Spy couldn't deny he was loving the ride. Having his asshole caned did a lot to keep his pride in check, and stop him from thinking he was too good to love this as much as he did. Spy whimpered as Engineer pushed in, "I love it. I love all of it! Please, keep going!" Just the thought of spilling in Engineer's hand with this cock in his ass was an incredible and erotic idea that made Spy's passage flex tightly and squeeze the heavy cock he was stretched around.

Engineer loved hearing Spy beg for him. He wasn’t just begging for relief, or begging for pleasure. He begged for whatever Engineer saw fit to give him. “You’re pretty close, ain’t you?” Engineer asked, stroking his captive’s cock a little faster now. Spy really had changed his tune after a little ‘attitude adjustment.’

Spy answered quickly and honestly, "Yes! I'm so close! I'm almost..." His voice shuddered. He vaguely remembered their last encounter, that Engineer had told him to wait and it was worth it. Spy couldn't think of anything Engineer could do to increase the pleasure. Yet, he focused and held himself off from climax, counting quick seconds as he listened for Engineer.

Finally, Engineer could no longer restrain himself. He came in Spy, bucking his hips erratically as he did. 

Spy gasped when he felt the cock throbbing inside of him and immediately knew when he felt seed fill him. It was so  _ real _ and different than anything a toy could imitate. The erotic idea of Engineer's seed filling him immediately made Spy climax in turn. He orgasmed hard into Engineer's palm and released his seed all at once. Spy's inner muscles wrapped tightly around Engineer and milked him as the effect of the climax worked through his body. As the pleasure leveled off, Spy became more sharply aware of the fresh caning and he started to squirm and ease off the cock.

Engineer felt Spy wince and slowly pulled away. He knew it must feel like hell now that Spy had cum. “There, that wasn’t so bad,” he chuckled, knowing full well that it must have hurt.

Spy leaned forward and let himself rest on the bed. He grunted quietly at Engineer's words and thought of several remarks. But he said none of them. Although he was feeling blissful and almost high, in that moment, the cane had left a very harsh reminder of what his words earned him. After a moment to recover, Spy crawled to the headboard and rested his head on the pillows, letting the leash hang loose. "I want a cigarette," Spy finally panted. After a full breath he added hopefully, "Please?" Spy opened his eyes to look up at Engineer.

Engineer settled himself against the pillows and reached over to the end table. He grabbed them each a cigarette and lit them both before passing one of them to Spy. Spy seemed to be guileless at this point, worn out and full of endorphins. Engineer ran his hand over Spy’s short hair affectionately.

Spy gladly took the cigarette but barely used it. Engineer had caused him to go without cigarettes for days at a time and Spy was finding himself less dependent on that oral fixation. Instead, Spy soothed his racing heart and foggy mind by pressing into Engineer gently and moaning as his head was stroked. Under his captor's attention he fell asleep without ever finishing his cigarette.

Engineer took Spy’s cigarette when he drifted off, finishing his own before reluctantly rousing Spy and sending him to his kennel again.

The Frenchman wouldn’t argue but his eyes showed that he didn’t understand and he didn’t agree. 

Engineer held up the penny that Spy was tasked with holding to the wall. “I gave you an order. Next time, you’re gonna follow that order.” ‘ _ Quid pro quo _ ’ be damned.


	17. Rice

_Spy braced himself over a tall drafting table. He tried to ignore his mentor as the man walked slowly in large circles around him and behind him. He couldn’t afford to let his eyes wander away from the blueprint under his palms for even a second._

_His mentor was only allowing him a brief 30 seconds to study the strange and complicated plot. That time came to an end as a heavy white paper was lowered over the blueprint and spy stood up. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes as if he could preserve the pattern on his eyelids._

_“Are you ready?” the mentor asked._

_“Oui.” The student nodded and opened his eyes again. He picked up a pencil and began to recreate the plan from memory. The shape of it came together very quickly. Squares, rectangles, triangles, circles, all of these were very easy. The lines that filled it were much slower work and he could feel the important details beginning to erode from his memory. He included a few symbols for disconnections and grounding lines and then his pencil stilled._

_They stood together in silence for a moment before the younger man sighed again in defeat. _

_His mentor questioned, “Is that as much as you can remember?”_

_The Frenchman nodded. “Yes… It is better than my last attempt.”_

_“True. But it is far from an eidetic memory.” The mentor returned as he uncovered the original blueprint again to inspect the recreation._

_The younger man slipped a hand into his breast pocket for a pack of cigarettes. “You know what is better than a photographic memory…” A quiet click and whirr of mechanics filled the silence before he answered himself, “An actual photograph.”_

_The older man scoffed and snatched the camera, disguised as a cigarette carton, from his student’s hand. “I suppose you plan to always carry a camera to every situation?”_

  
  


*

Engineer took measuring cups from the kitchen and filled them with rice before they went to the garage. 

Spy crawled beside the man and asked, “Do you have plans for me today?”

“Course I do. I always got plans.”

“Will I be helping in the garage?” he asked, a little more directly. He was hoping to do more than hold a penny to the wall.

“Sure will. A little bit of honest work would do you good,” Engineer reasoned. He approached a worktable and assembled a tray with tools on it, and the measuring cups of rice. He sat down comfortably on his workbench and snapped his fingers before pointing to a place beside him.

The crawling man cautiously moved forward and Engineer positioned him as he liked. Spy’s wrists were cuffed behind his back and he was guided to kneel with his legs spread. Finally, his shoulders were pressed down to the floor, displaying his ass high in the air.

The Texan was pleased to see the marks from the cane. He hadn’t been hard enough on Spy to cause bruises, but the raised red skin was likely still sensitive. “You took a real lickin’ last night. Fixed your damn attitude, though.”

Spy pressed his hot, blushing cheek to the cold floor as he searched for something to say. 

Engineer lowered a metal tray down with the rice and tools balanced on top, and Spy immediately extended his fingers to balance it on his fingertips and on the curve of his ass. It was a very difficult position to hold a tray. If the weight shifted on the tray he wouldn’t see it until he felt it fall. 

But Spy considered the view of his own body to be much worse than the task. He was completely on display for Engineer and he burned with shame as he was sure the other was gloating over the cane marks. He nearly hissed his disapproval of the humiliation, but then, Engineer spoke softly. 

“Beautiful.”

“_Pardon_?” Spy asked.

Engineer’s finger stroked down the red welts, over Spy’s asshole, and along his scrotum. “Try and hold onto this position now, you hear?” He liked this view.

Spy frowned and his brows came together in an expression of total focus. His embarrassment was melting away to pride, and he was certain that he had no reason to feel that way. Praise was not enough to make this treatment feel good.

Engineer lifted a tool and started to work on the machine that now had his total attention.

These strange tasks that Engineer commanded of Spy were humiliating and taxing. And yet, he felt undeniably accomplished as he came away from each one with success.

“My mentor would sometimes challenge me in these strange ways.” He heard Engineer shift, undoubtedly considering him with some surprise. “Not this, exactly,” Spy assured him, “but similar. He would give me a strange task that I could not see the reason for until I watched it unfold.”

Engineer smiled proudly. His pet spoke more freely in every session. “Is that so? Do you think you figured out what I’m up to this time?”

“Of course,” Spy answered.

“Well, shoot,” his captor encouraged.

“My mentor gave me each task to craft me into a weapon. You give me these tasks to build me into a tool,” Spy answered. 

He was correct. More than he knew. Engineer couldn’t confirm it, or reveal how he was using Spy. So he simply hummed with consideration and returned to his machine.

“But the one thing I don’t understand...” Spy started to muse. 

Engineer turned his head to listen.

“Why are you expending so much effort to build me into something useful to you?”

The answer was simple, but too vulgar and perverse to admit. Engineer wanted a human pet and was indulging himself in a secret desire he’d fantasized about since he first started hurting spies. The only reason to work so hard on training a spy, rather than getting the information he wanted and crushing him, was because this man was a priceless catch to keep as his own secret possession.

Engineer should have been grateful that Spy was so close to discovering that secret. The nosy man was always looking for something to uncover, and if he uncovered clues that Engineer was breaking him down to interrogate him the assignment would be ruined.

With that in mind, Engineer reluctantly willed himself to answer and keep Spy’s mind on that thread. “For a spy, you aren’t so bad when you’re like this...” He didn’t know what to say next, and realized the long pause made it somehow harder to keep speaking.“I thought, if I dragged you along in this arrangement... ” He hung on his own words.“You might—”

His words were interrupted by a loud crash and drizzle across the floor. He looked down to find Spy had twisted to look back at him and disbalanced the tray on his fingertips. The metal tray was on the ground and the tools were scattered. The containers of rice fell and the individual grains scattered and covered the area.

Spy’s expression showed utter defeat and embarrassment; he’d been caught twisting to gaze up to his captor’s face. He knew what was next and he didn’t protest when Engineer stood up and led his pet to his kennel in the bedroom and locked him away again.

Spy curled on his side in the only comfortable position inside the kennel. From the location of the kennel there was nothing of interest. He was not near any window—protecting him from hot sunlight but also not allowing him to see out—and he was not near anything he could reach for entertainment.

He saw the engineer pass by the door and then heard movement in the kitchen. The man was stopping to eat, and although whatever he prepared would surely not be impressive, he would likely bring some to his pet. He started to push himself up to his hands and knees. 

Engineer made eggs and toast—in his opinion something a little better than what Spy often complained about—and made a plate for Spy as well. After eating his own lunch, he brought Spy his food, opening the kennel to pass it to him. Dell sat at the foot of the bed to watch Spy eat, not closing the kennel yet.

The spy looked down briefly at the plate. He hadn’t expected much, but he was still disappointed. He didn't criticise however. He wasn't going to insult the man when he wanted something from him. The naked man on his hands and knees looked up, "Sir, let me come with you. I'll try much harder."

Engineer was almost too easily convinced. It was exactly what he wanted, after all. Still, he felt like he should make Spy work for it. "You think you can manage it?" He was almost teasing Spy. He knew he'd let him out. Spy, however, did not.

The Frenchman nodded. "_Oui_. I'll help you. Or I'll stay out of your way and not distract you. Whichever you like. Please, sir." He emphasised heavily on the end, truly being humble.  
  
“Eat first.”

He nodded."_Oui_, of course!" He grabbed the food and gave it a look of consideration, then ate with only a subtle expression of distaste. Then he crawled from the kennel. Looking up at the man in control he assured him, "You won't regret this, sir."

"I won't need to regret it. If you don't do well, you'll be the one regretting it." Engineer headed back to the garage, with Spy at his heels. There was still rice all over the floor, and he ignored it as he walked to the bench, letting Spy crawl through it.

The crawling man worked hard to keep up but when he reached the rice he slowed down. He glanced up to be sure they were stopping here and he started to sweep the rice out of the way with his palm. He gathered the rice in piles as his hand moved back and forth, "I'll sweep this up and clean it away, sir," he offered obediently.

“Don’t bother,” Engineer told him. “You’ll be fetching me tools and crawling back and forth.” He knew it would be agony to kneel on the hard rice. It stuck to the skin and dug into the kneecaps. 

He directed Spy to get the first tool, sitting at his workbench and focusing on his project while listening for Spy’s whimpers of pain.

The spy looked up at him, wanting to argue or bargain. But he was glad to be freed from the kennel. He showed his obedience still.

He crawled across the rice to the tool, shaking grains free with every step. He brought the tool back and put it in Engineer's palm. He considered pushing himself up to be on his knees, but due to the rice, he found it more bearable to be on all fours In fact, when the rice started to hurt, he could press on his hands and momentarily lift his knees up totally for relief.

Engineer would reach down occasionally to pat the Spy’s head, putting a heavy hand over his soft, shorn hair. 

They kept this up for hours, and Engineer watched as Spy began to move slower and slower, with hard rice sticking to his palms and knees. 

The Frenchman groaned as the heavy hand rested on his head again. "Let me sit," he requested, sure that sitting would be easier on the rice, even with the cane marks on his ass.

“You’re already sitting,” Engineer chuckled. “You stay on your knees.”

Spy whined quietly, but said nothing. He lowered his head to look at the rice scattered onto the floor. It pushed into his palms and his knees and caused growing discomfort.

He gently lifted up a knee and brushed away the rice, then dusted off his knee.

He lifted his other knee then, to do the same.

Engineer caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and looked down at Spy. "Really?" he raised an eyebrow. "You thought you could get away with that? Alright." Engineer nudged Spy away, made sure there was a goodly amount of rice on the cement floor, then pulled Spy back on top of it. "No leaning on your hands," he instructed. "Just kneeling."

The naked man whimpered loudly as he was pulled back in place.

"Sir," he started to plead, but after he’d begged to be let out of the kennel he didn't want to push his luck. Instead, he resigned himself to being on his knees. "I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, for trying to push away the rice.

He was determined to endure this. It could not truly ruin him or permanently damage him. If he kept his head together, he could endure it. Engineer seemed blind to his pain and struggle, working calmly as though Spy were merely sitting next to him without the sharp pain of the rice digging into his knees. 

The kneeling man broke his silence to mutter, "I was never trained for this." Then he clarified, "When I trained to be a spy, and a mercenary. Not when you..." He trailed off, hesitant to admit he was being trained by the spy-breaker.

“You weren’t trained to deal with this kind of pain?” Engineer hazarded a guess.

Spy lowered his head, embarrassed. He straightened his shoulders and tried to appear less weak, less broken by uncooked rice. "Non. I wasn't trained to serve, on my knees." He shifted his weight to lessen the pain on one knee and whimpered from the intense pain in the other knee. He lost his balance and caught himself, holding Dell's leg. He took a deep breath and gently pushed back till he was only on his knees. "I think I wasn't even trained for obedience to this level either." But then, he wasn't sure where that obedience came from now, if this were true.

Engineer stroked a hand over Spy’s short, silvering black hair. “Looks like you’re learning fast.” He smirked. “Ain’t that right?” He enjoyed the pained expression as Spy shuffled back and forth in an attempt to escape the rice.

The hand was gentle and encouraging, so Spy allowed it. It would hurt his knees more to attempt jerking away.

He looked up hopefully when the hand was gone. "Does this mean you are done testing me?" The pain could not be too much. There was no permanent damage from something like this. It was nothing as bad as what had caused Spy's scars or the missing fingers on his left hand. But the constant pain was terrible. The spy knew he could give up and cry mercy, but if he did, he would go to the cellar, which was so much worse.

"We ain't done ’til I'm done working." It had hardly been any time at all. This kind of pain was clearly difficult for Spy to work through, compared to a stress position.

The spy groaned and bowed his head. It seemed impossible, and he reminded himself he had not been trained for this. "I should be in Australia now. Searching for the lost cities of New Zealand," he muttered quietly. "I should be closing in on finding lost treasure and sunken hoards of Australium for my mentor." His hands stretched out and squeezed shut as he tried to work through the pain. He knew the rice could not possibly break his skin or his bones, but the tiny dry grains were like nails, and as they hit a nerve they seemed to reach deeper and deeper until his thigh muscles shivered.

The Frenchman whimpered and leaned forward. He put his head, and a part of his shoulder, on the Engineer's leg. Then his hands started to creep up and touch his knee. It was not much, but it took some weight off of his own knees. He sighed gratefully and his quiet murmuring about the secret agenda of the Classic Team stopped. "This is good, _oui_?"

Spy was sharing secrets quite nicely, and Engineer gave him a nudge to keep him off his lap and in the rice. "That's not good, no," he responded. "Keep thinking about something else, tell me about Australia. Not much longer," he encouraged. 

Spy whimpered as he slid back into place, fully on his knees again. He was losing his patience and wanted to break down and either openly defy Engineer by crawling away from the rice, or to say "Mercy" and be pardoned from it. But the Engineer's command directed his thoughts. He nodded. "Oui, Australie." He winced again due to pain. "My teammate, the Sniper, lives there." He doubted they knew more of each other than the standard awareness of the enemy. The Sniper stayed back and closed the distance between himself the enemy using scopes. Once the Engineer found a good location without any lines of sight for long-ranged attacks, he and his sentries were safe from the Sniper and it was the end of their interaction. 

So, Spy explained further, "He speaks like an Australian... Take that, booksmarts," he growled in the Sniper's accent. "But he isn't... Considering his age, the Classics think he could be from the lost land, New Zealand."

His eyes were weighing very heavily on the Engineer's lap, and after a bit of hesitating, he put his head on the man's thigh and stopped talking about his work, again. "Let me rest, only for a moment. This can't be bothering you."

“Keep talking,” he suggested. “Just another fifteen minutes. You ain’t gonna die.”

Spy's head weighed down on the jean-clothed thigh a little heavier as he adjusted himself to take weight off his knees. He whined pitifully, "Fifteen minutes," and his hands creeped onto the Engineer's leg also.

Engineer pushed him off, grinning. “Talk to me, it’ll help the time go faster than just whining.” He rested one hand on Spy’s head briefly before getting back to his project.

Spy tilted his head back, letting the hand rest on his head. His shorn hair was like dark, soft velvet under the palm. His cheeks were coloured and his eyes were unfocused. He was resisting the pain, but as he endured it, he was sinking into subspace. For the first time ever, the Frenchman asked, "Talk to you about what?" His tone showed his frustration. The 'easy' task was becoming harder and harder, and he couldn't start himself on a subject to talk about now. 

But the situation was perfect for the spy-breaker's intentions. His prisoner spy was not only talking, but asking what to talk about, obliviously asking what secrets he should give up.

Engineer was awash with a feeling of success, and of power. Looking down at Spy, it was obvious he was in that suggestible state of mind, completely under Engineer’s control. “Who else did the Classic team ask you to keep in touch with?” He asked it casually, as though barely curious.

The spy hummed quietly, focused on his knees more than his words. "The Medic." Silence stretched between them and he trembled in the rice, trying to hold onto any thought that could distract him. "The RED Medic. The one who created the Überheart."

He looked up at the engineer, waiting for a question, or anything to distract him. The shivers moved up through his body and he could barely be still. He started resting his head and his shoulders on Engineer's thigh again, relieving the weight. "The doctor is probably with the Classic team now... Putting black market organs into them... Fixing their hearts, making them as immortal as we were." Spy started to crawl across the engineer's lap to get away from the rice. His lean stomach rested on the engineer's lap and his knees no longer touched the ground. The spy gripped the man's trousers to hold on and begged, "Please don't put me on the rice again, sir."

Engineer couldn’t help but laugh as Spy desperately clung to him. “I thought you could deal with pain!” He couldn’t help but tease him. Spy was so wonderfully soft like this, guileless and open. He didn’t want to push him too far and have him come crashing through to something bad. Instead, he allowed Spy to crawl up into his lap. “Ain’t you just like a pet, climbing into my lap. Tell me one more thing and I’ll let you get off the rice. What are the Classics gonna do with immortality, huh? Ain’t they all ancient anyhow? Who’d wanna be stuck at eighty?”

The Frenchman gripped the other man tighter as he asked the question. It was posed as a conversation but he didn't have a good answer.

"_Je ne sais pas_, I don't know! Who can know what goes through the Classic Heavy's head?" He corrected himself. "No... Grey Mann. He must want something. I can't imagine what."

Engineer believed him. Spy wasn't able to lie to him in this state. "Alright, c'mon, let's get you off the rice." He stood Spy up, patting him on the ass to send him on his way. "There's a broom in the corner, sweep all this up." He'd keep working until Spy was finished cleaning up.

The Frenchman sighed with relief as he was put on his feet. The kindness seemed sudden and unexpected, like a reward. He wasn't sure exactly what merited it, but he was glad for it. When Engineer indicated the broom for him, he quickly went and obediently swept the floor, still high on the rewarding feeling of wordless praise.


	18. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy makes a choice.

_ The heavy door to the basement opened with a creak, and in the doorway stood Conagher Sr., the oldest son of Radigan Conagher. He was not a tall man, but he was thick and strong and intimidating when he was angry. He was wiping blood off his knuckles with an oil-stained rag from his pocket. "Dell! You hear me?" he shouted into the quiet house for his son. _

_ Dell was out of his room in an instant. His father was not a man who tolerated being ignored, but Dell was hopeful anyway to be invited to work beside him. “You need me for something?” he asked eagerly. His father’s side of the family had been talking about him being old enough to take up the other side of the family business. The engineering part had been taught to him since he was knee high. The torture was something he’d been waiting to learn for a long time. _

_ Mrs. Conagher banned any speak of torture within the cozy Texan home. When Dell’s uncles were visiting someone always mentioned the mysterious guest in the basement for the newest interrogation. And Mrs. Conagher always interrupted the conversation with a crack of her rolling pin across the man’s knuckles. No matter if it was one of Dell’s uncles, or even his father. There was no talk of torture in her home. _

_ But the basement was a dungeon and Dell heard enough to know what family business was handled down there. The youngest Conagher desperately wanted to be a part of that business also. _

_ Conagher Sr. tucked his rag away and put a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. "It's time you experienced a rite of passage in this house." He spoke like it was a duty or a responsibility, but his expression showed only pride for his boy. _

_ “The family business?” Dell asked. _

_ “Sure is. We got ourselves a spy down there." He tilted his head down the stairs. "You know what we do to spies?” _

_ “Break ‘em down into somethin’ harmless, build ‘em up into somethin’ useful,” the young man answered. _

_ “That’s my boy. You ready to meet him?" The offer sounded innocent enough, although they both knew it was an invitation to break a spy. _

_ Dell kept his excitement hidden away, knowing that this was serious and he couldn’t go acting like it was a game, or like he was a child. He was a young adult, but more importantly, he was being seen as a man. _

_ He followed his father down the basement steps. He wasn’t sure what to expect, having never been down to the basement before, but it was clean, well lit and a little cold. There were tools and devices on tables, hanging on the walls. The current captive was strapped to a chair. He didn’t look particularly threatening. Dell hadn’t expected how ordinary the spy would look. Part of him had expected him to look like one of the gravel war Spies, in a uniform or mask. He was handsome, but he just looked like a man. _

_ He looked to his father for instruction. _

_ Uncle Hank, the tallest of Radigan's sons—although not at all a tall man—welcomed the youngest Conagher. "Ready to get your hands dirty, boy?" _

_ Uncle Abraham, a short but lean man who resembled Radigan closely, was tapping a heavy wrench in his palm. "Better be. When I was his age—" _

_ Conagher Sr. interrupted, "He wasn't ready before. He's ready now." He turned to Dell and put a cattle prod into his hands. He met his eyes and searched for confirmation that he was ready. _

_ Dell nodded. He was ready for whatever they asked of him. He’d listened in on them before, talking about prisoners and interrogations and torture methods. He could do this. Even just holding the weapon, he felt a little rush. _

_ The spy lifted his head to see the newest member of the group with only the smallest interest. Every detail of the man was starkly different than any of the men in the Conagher family. He was tall, and lean. His ripped-open shirt showed mysterious tattoos and well-defined muscles. He had thick dark hair, and a narrow jaw that matched the handsome look of men on billboards near the city. Despite the rough treatment he’d survived so far, when his eyes met Dell's, there was an undeniable wolf-like quality to the man. _

_ The spy was dangerous. There was no possibility of beating that out of him. Conagher Sr. moved around his son and put his hands on his broad shoulders to encourage him. The moment carried the energy of a father teaching his son an American sport. Except that his son was no child, and this was more serious than any sport. _

_ "The first thing you gotta make peace with is that you're gonna have to hurt a spy, and you're gonna have to kill him." He released the younger man's shoulders. "You can tell yourself whatever helps. But you keep on doing it until you don't feel sorry about what you're doing any more." _

_ Dell nodded. He knew this spy wouldn’t be leaving here alive. They were dangerous, he reminded himself. They were untrustworthy, he repeated the mantra he heard so often. They were here to be broken and once they had given up everything they knew, they were meant to be killed. _

_ “Does he have anything that we need?” Dell wanted to start, wanted to see the reaction the cattle prod could get out of the man, but he knew there were some rules. There were goals beyond the pain of the snake of a man tied up in front of them. _

_ Uncle Hank chuckled proudly to see his nephew taking such an ambitious role. "Ain't nothin in that man that we don't know about. But we won't complain if you want to wring some more out of him for the hell of it." _

_ "Kill me," the spy announced. "Kill me quickly." His voice was handsome, deep, and definitely British. "With my dying breath, I'll tell you anything you wish to know." _

_ Conagher Sr. frowned and gladly coached his son, "These snakes will tell you anything to get what they want. They never quit looking for an angle to get in control." He shook his head. "Go on and show him who’s in charge here." _

_ Dell nodded. Being a farm boy and having cousins, Dell knew what a cattle prod felt like. It was none too pleasant and it could knock someone on their ass if you hit them in the right place. It was not unlike an electric fence. Still, with continued contact, it could burn and scar. One of his more stubborn cousins had a mark on his neck from just that. Knowing what he knew, he started in a sensitive area, just tapping it as he would with actual cattle. He zapped the spy’s hand, watching as his fingers spasmed. He completely ignored the spy’s words. They were just lies and there was no point in responding to those. _

_ The spy couldn't stop himself from responding as the electricity struck his nerves. But the tap was brief and he didn't let himself show that he was in pain. The look in the spy's eyes changed from wolfish to something more prey-like. He looked up at the young man like he was someone powerful and intimidating. _

_ The look on the spy’s face was something incredible and the young Conagher felt an elation rise up in him. _

_ The Spy made another clever remark and Conagher Sr. simply spoke over him, "That's it, son. Don't hold back now, ain't nothin’ to be afraid of." _

_ Dell’s face was impassive as the electric tool bit into the spy again. It traveled up the spy’s arm in slower and slower strokes. It moved across his bare chest and up to the hollow of his throat. There he left the tool to burn his skin, easing away when it turned bright red. _

_ The Spy resisted responding to the pain but he couldn't stop the way his muscles twitched under the electrical zap. Soon he couldn't stop squirming in the seat. He breathed through the pain, but as each touch became more intense, his breathing matched it. _

_ Within the wrapping of a torture session was a surprisingly lewd image. The spy's head rolled back like an overwhelmed lover. His lean chest rose with each deep breath and then released it heavier and heavier, first as pained breaths, then sighs, and then erotic moans. _

_ As the prod pressed to his neck, the spy's head came back up as though he was summoned to give Engineer his total attention. He’d truly tried his best to hold back any sounds of pain, but he started to scream. _

_ Dell felt amazing. His nerves were buzzing with arousal. He could feel his heartbeat suddenly, in his chest and lips and groin. He’d never experienced something so arousing and he didn’t consider himself particularly innocent, even if he was a virgin. He didn’t think he wanted to fuck the man, not really. He just wanted to _ hurt _ him. _

_ The cattle prod left a few marks on the spy as he continued, burning into the side of his neck, his cheek, then down on the side of his ribs. Each burn grew worse until the smell of burning skin filled the basement. _

_ Dell no longer felt his family’s eyes on him. It was as though it was only him and the prisoner. The way the spy looked at him nearly gave him a headrush. He felt like he was swimming in a power he’d never even imagined. _

_ The spy eventually broke down under the attention of the youngest man. The stoic demeanor was abandoned completely for desperate eyes that followed Dell everywhere, and a voice pleading, "Please! Please! Please!" Each time the cattle prod touched his skin, he stopped pleading to scream, until he suddenly passed out from the pain. _

  
  
  


*

  
  


The routine could not continue forever. Spy knew that. Spy knew that it wasn't Engineer's style to let him become accustomed to anything, really. But he hoped that if he was obedient and followed the rules as closely as possible, he could remain beside Engineer in the garage and avoid the basement.

But the routine changed suddenly when Engineer stopped on his path to the garage and opened the door to the basement instead. Spy froze and watched Engineer go down the stairs while he was held in place by fear.

Spy knew he was obedient. He knew he served Engineer well and hadn’t earned any punishments. He was certain he’d earned his nights in the kennel and his days on his hands and knees, sharing meals and exchanging conversation. He wasn’t being treated as an equal, perhaps. But it seemed overwhelming and unfair to be treated as a prisoner now.

But Engineer was starting to feel too comfortable working with Spy beside him. Even bound or working, Spy seemed to be flourishing. He needed something more difficult and knew that it was time to return to the basement. Even if it was only for a day.

When Engineer didn’t feel Spy at his side he stopped and looked up at Spy in the doorway, expecting him to follow.

Spy looked down at Engineer. The Texan was shorter than him, a fact he’d somehow forgotten recently, after spending so much time on his knees. The difference of stairs made it obvious again.

Engineer started to take a step up, seeing his error in going down first.

In a strange burst of courage, Spy shut the door to the basement and fastened the lock. All the while, his face showed absolute horror at his actions. He regretted it already.

Engineer had overestimated Spy’s obedience and fear; a dangerous mistake to make. He pounded on the door. “You open the door right now, and I’ll forget you did that,” he growled with authority and hoped it was enough to pull Spy under his control again. 

Spy was silently berating himself for his impulsive action and flinching at every pound against the door. Engineer’s warning brought him to his senses and he realised he had control of the situation. Enough control to escape.

Spy left the basement door and ran to the garage. He knew he had little time before the gunslinger ripped the reinforced door off its hinges. He only had enough time to take the truck keys from their hook in the garage. He hoped Engineer kept a spare jumpsuit in the car for his mechanic work so that Spy could clothe himself with some dignity before arriving in the nearest town.

Spy climbed into the seat of the old truck and turned the key to start the engine. He pressed the automatic button for the garage door and looked back to watch his path and then he stalled. He was entirely naked except for the leather collar buckled around his neck. Even with no leash, it seemed to hold him here. The land outside of this small base was vast, and he didn’t know where to go. That had never been never an issue in the past, but at that moment it was an insurmountable hurdle. It was a decision too big for him to make by himself, without the guidance of someone who knew him and knew what he wanted.

The feeling spreading through him was confusing and difficult to interpret. Pure instinct had locked the basement door and put him in the truck. The more he thought about it, however, the harder it was to follow through on this simple instinct to escape. Strangely, he wanted to stay.

He saw his opportunity for escape slipping by, and yet he argued with himself in his mind. This escape wasn’t hard. In fact, it was easy. The opportunity fell into Spy’s hands and he was slipping through his captor’s fingertips.

A risky thought crept into Spy’s mind. If Engineer made an easy mistake like this once, he would surely make an easy mistake like this again. Spy could wait until that time to make his true escape. This time, he could stay, and he could learn more about the mysterious Conagher.

But his body was going to regret it now... Engineer was going to punish him severely for this disobedience. Spy rested his head on the steering wheel as he weighed his options, and already knew what he would do. 

Spy exited the car and put the keys down, murmuring quietly to himself, "I will let him out, and swear my obedience to him. I'll liberate him now, before he breaks the door, and we can say nothing ever happened." Spy walked a little slower as he approached the door. He knew how the man looked when he was angry. He’d sapped enough sentries to be very familiar with that face. But he’d never made Engineer so angry as his captive… yet.

With every hard pound against the door Engineer was cursing himself; he'd made a mistake. He'd made such a stupid mistake. He knew not to give these snakes any weakness to exploit. He knew they were tricky things to keep and couldn’t be given any chances.

He’d sworn he wouldn’t make this mistake, like his father had. Letting dangerous spies escape was how innocent people were hurt.

He threw his fist against the door again. The basement door was meant to only be opened from the outside if it was locked. The basement was a place for prisoners to be trapped. Not a place for people to escape from. Still, the gunslinger was strong enough to break through the door, eventually. He kept punching near the door handle. That would be the place to break through. 

The door was wriggling substantially when Spy unlocked the it. He flipped the lock quickly and stepped out of the way to let the heavy door swing open under Engineer's next punch. The Texan looked angrier than Spy had expected, and he forced himself to speak. "I opened the door, as you asked."

“You were a bit too slow,” Engineer snarled, reaching out and grabbing Spy by the wrist. He was furious now and too emotional to pardon his pet without working through it with a lot of pain on Spy’s behalf.

Spy could guess that he’d earned some corrective discipline, but it didn't make it any easier to face when Engineer dragged him along. Spy was caught between leaning back from the hand on his wrist to buy himself some time, and reluctantly following to not earn anything worse. But when Engineer sat down and started to pull him down over his knee, Spy considered himself getting the worst. 

Last time he’d spanked Spy, he’d worked him up to harder slaps. This time he went straight to rough blows.

Engineer had introduced Spy to many types of pain, and although his broad open palm couldn't cause the damage that the metal paddle did, the humiliation nearly broke him before the first spank landed on his ass. Spy braced his palms on the floor and watched his own vision jump every time a hard slap rocked him forward. The first several sounds to come out of him were sharp cries and whimpers before he started to reason with Engineer. "Please, I apologise!"

"You're not getting out of this so easy," Engineer growled, the gunslinger pinning Spy to his lap. His hand was not gentle, there was none of the tenderness that they had been getting used to over the last week. Engineer was angry, but it was mostly at himself. He'd let his guard down and the only reason Spy was still here was because he'd decided to stay.

Spy twisted his hips but couldn’t find relief from any angle. And he desperately wanted relief. Engineer ended with a hard and angry pace like this when he wanted to redden Spy's ass, after plenty of time warming him up and breaking him down. But Engineer wasn't playing with him right now.

The Frenchman could only hope that Engineer wasn't warming him up now for something harder. The cold metal hand on his back, holding him down, was a frightening reminder that it could always be much harder. "Please!" Spy tried to beg but his voice came out as a choked sob. Wetness in his eyes started to roll down his cheeks and he wiped his eyes immediately and tried to compose himself enough to not sob while he begged, "Stop! Stop, _ s'il vous plaît_!"

It was interesting that it took so little over-the-knee spanking to break Spy down to tears. There was something about it that just crushed the man. But Engineer wasn’t interested in investigating what made him crack right now, he was just delivering a hard, and well-earned, punishment.

Engineer's gunslinger slid up to grab Spy by the back of the neck, around the firm leather collar.

"Please, stop. Let me apologise!" Spy braced his palms against the cold floor again as the metal hand gripped the back of his neck and bent him down. He resisted with as much strength as he could muster through the tears and he even kicked his legs. But Spy could not overpower the gunslinger, and especially not in this position. He was no longer just across Engineer's knee, he was bent and humbled with his head down and his ass in the air. His pleas broke down, becoming softer, and he continued crying.

Engineer held back nothing from Spy. He used as much of his strength as he could at this angle. It was unusual for spanking to cause welts, it was difficult to hit hard enough for that, but small purple marks started to raise across Spy's skin. "Let's hear it, then!" he snapped, but he didn't stop, didn't give Spy a chance to breathe.

Finally, when Engineer showed no sign of stopping, Spy gave in and apologised. "I'm sorry, sir! I made a mistake! Please forgive me! I couldn’t stop myself." The words were broken up by heavy breaths and whimpers. The sound of his own voice being so distressed from a spanking only made it worse and the tears fell heavier. But through it all, as broken as he was, he could only truly apologise for locking Engineer behind the door. He couldn't apologise for his very brief attempt to escape. Spy regretted it, but he wasn't sorry for that and he knew he was going to try again.

"What was your mistake?" Engineer grunted, his strikes deepening, bruises starting to form on Spy's pale skin.

Spy nearly screamed as he lost control of his composure, "I locked you in the basement!" He cried hard for a moment and struggled to catch his breath only to meekly add, "But I opened it for you also..."

"Why did you lock it?" Engineer asked, ignoring the spy’s attempt to point out his good deed.

Spy answered honestly, "I was frightened!" Spy's head fell down with humiliation to admit that also. "And I acted without thinking." It had happened so fast, but he’d shut the door in a moment of overwhelming fear, and it wasn’t until he realised what he‘d done that he realised he needed to run.

To Engineer’s surprise, Spy admitting that he had been frightened tempered his rage slightly. His hand stilled and he rubbed his palm over Spy’s bruises. 

Spy hissed under the gentling gesture. Engineer’s hands were hard and rough from calluses, and even the kind rubbing pained the reddened skin.

Spy slowly relaxed his tightly strung nerves and muscles as Engineer stroked him. He was still crying, fresh tears springing forth whenever he thought too much of the position he was in. But he wiped the tears away as they came and waited for Engineer's soothing voice to praise him for what he’d endured. 

But Engineer wouldn’t be lenient with that kind of disobedience, even if it was only a reaction to fear. Spy couldn’t think he could get away with doing that again. He lifted the sobbing man up, standing him on his feet. “Cell,” he commanded, pointing.

Spy was dismissed without any comfort or aftercare. Before he could complain or even try to reach to Engineer for closeness, he was directed to the cell. "Yes, sir," Spy answered after a deep breath to calm his nerves. He proceeded to the cell and willed himself not to rub his own arse and try to soothe it. Not here, where Engineer would see him. He didn't want to acknowledge his reddened ass, or how painful it was, until he could soothe himself alone in his cell.


	19. Bastinado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more back story and a bit of forgiveness.
> 
> ALSO please excuse the fact that I uploaded the wrong chapter first!!! It's the correct chapter now.
> 
> (Also, Merry Christmas!)

_ Dell Conagher returned to the Conagher Ranch after dozens of missed holidays and many more missed phone calls. TFI took too much of his time and attention, but it was also his own drive to top the charts as the most ground-breaking weapons engineer in the world. He was on the front lines of battle in the Southwest Gravel Wars, and he wasn’t letting anything pull him away. _

_ For years, he’d apologised politely and declined each invitation to return to the Conagher Ranch for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the Fourth of July. _

_ Now he was home, in a room full of Conagher aunts, uncles, cousins, and in-laws. Everyone was wearing black. _

_ Dell had made arrangements to put his work on hold and returned home as soon as he received the news. It was a terrible nightmare, spun from the warnings his family always made regarding spies. A spy, who was no doubt lured to the ranch by the machinery and engineering there, had crossed paths with Mrs. Conagher. The cowardly spy had stabbed the hapless woman in the back. _

_ Dell knew from his own experience that it was a fast, but painful, way to die. _

_ “How are you holding up?” A hand rested on his shoulder as someone comforted him. “She was a good lady. Conagher Ranch isn’t going to be the same without ol’ Mrs. Conagher.” _

_ The words washed over the man without sinking in. He nodded and patted the hand to express some gratitude as he did with every relative who came to comfort him regarding the death of his mother. _

_ Dell had finally returned home to attend her funeral. _

_ But he didn’t truly _ feel _ home. He watched the somber black suits and black dresses move like shadows, and listened to the hushed whispers like air trapped in a chimney. It took him a moment to realise his father was beside him, speaking to him. _

_ “I just… I still can’t wrap my damn mind around it. I thought I had that spy figured out.” Paxton was shaking his head. “She’s a spy, sure, but she was the softest thing I ever met. I was a dang gentleman with her! And this is how she repays me—stabbin’ my wife in the back.” Conagher Sr.’s shoulders sank but Dell was staring at him in anger and disbelief as the words registered in his mind. _

_ “A spy fooled you into goin’ soft?” His chest became tight as he spoke the words. _

_ The father met his son’s eyes. He was full of self-pity and sadness. “Don’t say it like that, son. Everyone makes a mistake in their life, and spies lead to some damn terrible mistakes.” _

_ “How did the spy escape the basement?” Dell demanded. _

_ Conagher Sr. couldn’t meet his eyes anymore. “Well, uh. It’s complicated, son. Things started as an interrogation, but I got to knowing her, and she just seemed so sweet and gentle. I guess I forgot that she was an assassin, or I figured she wasn’t too dangerous any more... I stopped locking her up.” _

_ “Ma’s dead because you let a gotdamn spy escape?!” the mourning son demanded with disbelief. He couldn’t help his voice becoming louder as he spoke. Guests were turning their heads and by reading their expressions one could easily recognise who knew about the Conagher family business, and who did not. His father was trying to hush him and keep the conversation private. _

_ “Look, Dell, no one’s more sorry than I am for how this turned out,” Paxton quickly assured him, as quietly as he could. “I ain’t lettin’ it happen again. I got her cuffed, and locked in the cell and—” _

_ “The spy who did this is still alive?” Dell was full of fury. He was standing up and even the most curious family members were stepping out of the way. _

_ The older man stood up, but was still speaking in a very hushed tone. “Dellmont, sit down and listen! This is complicated.” _

_ “I got a real quick solution to your problem,” the younger man growled. Their family guests were moving out of the way, but no one was getting involved yet. Dell pushed past his father to the basement door and started down. _

_ He found the spy locked securely in the basement cell. With bedsheets, and blankets, and a short stack of books for entertainment. The scene was obvious to Dell. It would be obvious to any Conagher who knew how the family business was supposed to run. Paxton Conagher had fooled himself into thinking that his captive spy was a friend and companion. He’d willed himself to forget the violent circumstances of their relationship, or the duties he had. _

_ Dell picked up a heavy wrench from the table, then turned his attention to his father. “You’re the reason Ma is dead!” He opened the cell door and closed it behind himself so his father couldn’t follow. He didn’t take his eyes from the spy who started to rise to its feet. _

_ The older man begged, “Wait! Wait, please! It’s not what it looks like. Things are different. She wasn’t trying to kill anyone. Your ma was just standing right in the way of the door. She was just lookin’ for an escape, she’s not a killer anymore. You don’t gotta do this.” _

_ Dell shook his head as he studied his father with cold rage. “You taught me the rules. I know how a Conagher handles spies. Now, I’m gonna remind you how it’s done.” _

_ His father became angry in his moment of desperation and shouted, “If you harm one hair on her, you ain’t my son. You’re leavin’ the ranch and I ain’t ever talking to you again!” _

  
  
  


*

  
  


Engineer stood outside of Spy’s cell, trying to calm himself. Reducing his prisoner to tears and apologies did a lot to make him feel better, but the adrenaline of the dangerous mistake was still fresh in his mind.

From his own training he knew that he couldn’t blame the spy. A snake like that would take any opportunity that benefited him, and only a fool expected spies to have integrity.

But this punishment wasn’t just for the spy. This punishment was going to remind _ himself _ of their roles. Dell wasn’t going to become soft and lose control.

Engineer went back up the stairs to the surveillance room and flicked up a toggle. The security recordings appeared as bright lights came on down in Spy’s cell. A loud electrical buzz accompanied the blazing lights.

Spy flipped onto his back and recoiled with his arms up, trying to block out the blinding light as he looked around his room.

The cell and time alone were a form of torture on their own, but now it was unlikely Spy would sleep or get a moment of peace. 

Engineer went to his bed and hoped that he could let go of the anger bottling up in him. He hoped he could rest easily, knowing that Spy could not.

Spy looked around the empty cell he had come to know so well, and saw it clearly for the first time. It was smaller than he’d thought. In the darkness, when he’d felt for everything, the cell seemed to stretch on so much more in every direction. Now, it appeared barely large enough to lie down.

Spy didn't mind the lights after his eyes adjusted, although the electric buzzing was terrible. He assumed Engineer was coming and he washed his face to soothe the red, tear-stained skin.

His arse was red and sore from the hard spanking, but it made him humble and mellow. With a clean face, he obediently went to the doorway and waited.

Spy was not able to do anything _ but _ wait. The lights didn't bother him much during the day, except that they made the room feel very small. In such a small area, the lights seemed to generate heat and made the very cold and dreary room a little bit warmer. But as the day continued on, the heat was less welcome. There was nowhere to hide from the very intense lights, and no way to escape the buzzing. 

He waited for hours, until he was sure it was nighttime, but with the lights and sound, he couldn't sleep. The lights made him hot and he was covered with a thin sweat. He unfastened his collar and dropped the leather onto the bed mat with hope that the relief would make him more comfortable. The buzzing drilled into his ears until his own thoughts were only the inescapable buzzing.

At some point, in the middle of the night, Spy pounded on the door of his cell, screaming for an end to the buzzing. He called profanities and curses, he made demands, he begged and pleaded, and he cried ‘Mercy’ if only for an end to the noise. But he ultimately gave up and returned to lying on the bed-mat, unable to sleep or think or distract himself from this punishment.

The mellow calm from the punishing spanking was gone now. He was filled with a jittery anxiety and he would gladly kill for a cigarette if he saw the option. Instead, he chewed at his fingertips and fingernails until they were ragged, sore, and beginning to bleed. 

It seemed like an impossible amount of time later that the lights and the buzzing stopped. Spy started to sit up, wondering if the buzzing was truly gone or if he couldn't hear it anymore, as if it were a part of his mind's narrative. A minute later, the door opened and Engineer stood aside to let Spy out. 

Spy got up quickly and stumbled toward the door, eager and desperate to get away from the cell.

Engineer pointed to the floor at his feet, waiting for Spy to kneel down. His eyes looked past him to the collar on the floor but he did not react. His anger had cooled since yesterday and he felt cold now.

Spy was anxious but he knew to not let that control him. He fell to his knees in the doorway at Engineer’s feet. He hoped for a calloused palm stroking over his short hair but instead he was asked, “Where is your collar?” The broken man looked up to find his captor watching him with a cold, hard expression. He twisted and reached out with his lithe body to snatch the collar in his long fingertips, and Engineer’s hard hand closed around his arm the next moment.

Engineer dragged him into the open area of the dungeon and Spy followed without protest. Engineer was glad the captive man made this easy, but resentful that he wasn’t earning himself another punishment. Engineer was very glad to give out punishments right now.

His strong hands fastened the collar around the taller man’s lean neck, and then he produced a padlock from his tool box. “You won’t be taking that off again.”

Spy shivered and answered, “Yes, sir.” The collar was tighter this time. It was an unnecessary detail to make it so tight. He couldn’t slip out of a loose collar like a loose shackle. But he understood the message: Spy would not forget his place again. He would feel the leather squeezing his neck at all times and feel the weight of the metal lock on his collarbones.

Finally Engineer sighed as he moved on. Though he had a lot of ideas about punishment, he wanted to hear Spy’s first. “How do you think you should be punished for trying to escape?”

Spy looked up in total shock. "_ Quoi? Mais... Oh là là non _!" The spy’s words spilled all at once. "You spa—... You—I was sufficiently punished already!"

“Hardly,” Engineer said, calmly. “Answer the question.” That hard spanking was only to let off steam from his own anger. If he wanted to be fair, he’d say it was an adequate punishment for locking him in the basement. But he was intent on punishing Spy for trying to escape.

"I'll wear the collar and live in the kennel," Spy offered.

"That's how it's going to be from now on. Now what punishment is going to make you think long and hard about running away again?" 

The lean man bowed his head and looked at the floor. 

Engineer expected the man to be undecided, and to ask what his options were. He expected Spy to suggest one of the many techniques he’d used to torment him previously. Engineer didn’t expect to be satisfied with simply a paddling or flogging.

Engineer did not expect that Spy already had an answer in his mind and was struggling with himself to find the courage to say it."Bastinado," Spy answered in a pained voice.

Engineer considered the suggestion. It was a vicious torture he used on prisoners he kept standing, and it was a cruel punishment used on prisoners historically. Better than that, there was absolutely nothing erotic or affectionate about it. “Bastinado it is.” He nodded.

Spy whimpered, already dreading it. "Please, sir, forgive me."

“Is that what you deserve?” Engineer asked him. He couldn’t help but wonder _ why _ Spy had opened the door to the basement, and he wondered if he might actually forgive his pet for being appropriately remorseful for attempting to escape.

Spy lowered his head and leaned forward to press his forehead to Engineer, desperate to feel him in some comforting way before he admitted, _ "Non, monsieur." _

Engineer put his hand on the top of Spy’s head, as though praising him for realizing it. Maybe it was that Spy didn’t think he deserved anything more than what Engineer had given him. He seemed hopelessly lost without Engineer’s direction. 

Spy waited for Engineer to say anything, and he seemed to wait forever. The hand on his head, playing with the short hair that was just long enough to sway under his fingers, soothed him. He was surprised how much he wanted this and how much he’d missed this. Spy was almost prepared to wait forever for Engineer's decision, if it meant avoiding the punishment forever. But he was cold and tired and desperate to get back to the familiar rooms upstairs. "Take me to our bed, _ s'il te plaît, _" he whispered intimately.

“Not yet.” Engineer stood, directing Spy up on the table. 

Spy let Engineer position him on the metal table. The moments stroking his hair had softened him, and he was ready to accept what Engineer gave him. But he was dreading the pain. 

Spy pressed his forehead to the cool table and focused on his breathing. He was trained to resist torture and he knew he could survive it, but _ punishment _ was somehow so much harder. And Engineer made it clear that this was punishment.

Engineer lay the man flat, and let his feet extend past the edge of the table. He then left him for a moment to get a cane. “You decided on this,” he reminded him. 

The prone man shuddered but said nothing. 

He let Spy wait a long moment before swinging the cane. It snapped across the bottoms of his naked feet.

Spy muffled his first pained sounds into his fist but obediently kept his feet in place. His breath fogged up the metal table and somehow made him feel colder and more separated from his partner. The pain of the snapping cane was accentuated by his captor’s icy demeanor. It didn’t feel like the suggestive or intimate forms of torture or punishment so far.

When the prone man began to twist under the pain, Engineer stopped occasionally and stroked a hand over Spy’s red skin. Surprisingly, it stilled the man and brought him to settle into place again. Engineer kept caning Spy’s feet until the soles were bright red with raised blood under the skin.

Spy gasped and shuddered as he twisted sometimes, or kicked his legs to try to shake out the pain, but Engineer’s warm palm took the fight out of him and made him softer. Spy fought off tears that seemed to come up when Engineer’s calloused hand stroked his leg and squeezed him gently. When the tears started to fall, he buried his face in his arms to hide them, though he could do nothing to hide the tremor in his shoulders.

Engineer stopped once he saw the first welt. It would be painful for Spy to walk, but that would be a good thing for reminding him to crawl. “That’s it,” Engineer murmured, putting the cane down and putting his hand on Spy’s calf again.

Spy rested under Engineer's warm palm on his calf and caught his breath. He hoped it was a gesture of comfort and aftercare. He sighed weakly, “I’m sorry. I won’t think of running away again, sir.” After a deep breath to steady his voice, Spy asked, "Are we done?"

“Yes,” Engineer said, “get down.” He had considered making Spy walk, or putting him back in his cell. But when he saw the man begin to cry he knew that he wanted Spy upstairs. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to feel him trembling as he fought back tears.

Spy was dreading the first step down. He steeled his nerves and gripped the table hard as he descended, but preparing himself for the pain did not lessen it. Engineer had stripped him of his pride, so he couldn’t even try to stand tall and defiant. His foot touched the floor and he immediately lowered himself to his hands and knees.

"That's it," Engineer told him, leading him upstairs. Spy clearly couldn't stand comfortably. Hands and knees were his best options now. 

Spy glanced ahead and saw Engineer leading the way. The Texan didn't set a very fast pace walking, but it was faster than crawling. Bastinado was a very effective punishment for trying to escape. It was a way to ensure Spy didn't escape anywhere. Without the option to walk, he was very easily under his captor's control now. 

Once they got to the bedroom, Engineer gestured to the bed. Before sitting down himself, he stripped. Naked, he sat up against the pillows and drew Spy into his arms. The older man’s lean face was still damp from his tears.

The Frenchman pressed his face to Engineer's chest and wrapped long boney arms around him, trying to soak in the warmth. "I really do belong to you now, _ non _?" But it wasn't really a question.

"You do," Engineer agreed, stroking Spy's short hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I think you've learned your lesson." Truthfully, Engineer had originally had more plans to punish Spy. He'd planned at least another day in the cell. But hearing him crying again, seeing him so broken, he knew if he comforted Spy, the prisoner would feel even more of an attachment than he did already. He would feel reliant on Engineer's emotional support. And maybe more than that, Engineer _ wanted _to comfort him. 

He kept one of his arms wrapped around Spy, holding him close, and ran his hand over his hair until Spy started to relax. His hair was getting longer, in his natural colours this time—black and silver.

This captivity was different than any prison or enemy Spy had faced before. It was more exhausting and truly hard on his body and mind. But the biggest difference was that, undeniably, Engineer was breaking him down and rebuilding him into something new. Spy wasn't exactly sure what.

Perhaps someone who wasn’t afraid to simply be obedient, and totally honest. A pet who was desperate for praise and being put in his place. 

Spy's tightly wound muscles slowly released as a broad hand petted up to his shoulder and down his back. These moments of comforting were becoming more intimate. If Engineer had done this during Spy's first night here, simply held him and kissed the top of his head, the captive rogue would have fought as if it was a form of torture. Letting someone hold him and comfort him so tenderly was very vulnerable. But now he showed his pain, unmasked, and he let it be soothed. Despite the vulnerability, Spy was undeniably appreciating and wanting these moments after Engineer pushed him so hard.

Engineer’s broad hand stroked the side of Spy’s face and felt the wet tracks down his cheeks from his tears. 

Spy pulled away as he felt the moisture smear. He wiped his cheeks with his hands as if he could clean away the redness on his eyes. "_ Pardonnez-moi. _ I must look terrible." The peace from the hard punishment did not last long and now he was self-conscious and nervous and could only consider worrying away the anxiety in him. Spy's hands dropped to his lap and he looked over at the nightstand for a cigarette.

“Stay,” Engineer said, standing and heading to the bathroom. He rinsed a cloth under cool water, wringing it out before bringing it back to Spy. It would help with the redness, help him feel better. He handed Spy the cloth and settled in next to him. 

"_ Merci _." Spy took the wet cloth and washed his face gently, soothing the redness. With a clean face he looked over Engineer and studied him. "You aren't...terrible. Not all of the time," Spy stated, not entirely sure what he was saying or where he was driving the conversation. But he was cautious anyway. "You can be gentle, you can be soft... Why can’t you always be like this?" Spy finally asked.

It was a difficult question. Engineer couldn't tell him he was interrogating him, and using a specially tailored method to coerce the spy into speaking freely. He couldn't be entirely honest about his primary motives. But he had other motives. 

It took some time to find the right words. "I like it harder than this. And I think you like it too. Not the cell, not the _ real _ punishments, but you were hard as a rock when I used the violet wand on you, and you've cum after I've hurt you."

The spy turned his face away. He wanted to deny it, that he liked none of this treatment at all. But it would be a lie, and he knew not to attempt that. Engineer had made him hard enough to orgasm when he used the electric wand, and then proved it wasn’t a mistake when Spy became incredibly hard on the spanking bench also. But his enjoyment was _ deeper _ than that. Even when Spy fought back, or scowled or snarled as Engineer forced him into submission, the Frenchman was dizzy with the best adrenaline high of his life! 

Engineer pulled Spy in close, letting his hand wander over his skin. "And getting rough with you makes you..." he sighed, "needy, I guess. Don’t tell me you don’t notice how calm you are when I really lay into you.”

Spy’s clever eyes met his partner’s intelligent gaze. The ex-nicotine addict had certainly noticed that his chain-smoking habit had dropped down to a mild craving every few days. He’d noticed that he didn’t bite his nails, or chew his lip, or anything else he could put between his teeth, so long as he was under Engineer’s hand. But he lacked a word to explain the phenomenon, and didn’t expect his keeper to notice it at all.

“I like it… And it ain't like I went into this expecting to want to keep you," Dell finished.

Spy often imagined Engineer as someone with total control, letting their situation play out exactly as he wanted it. It was comforting, in a very human way, to know that Engineer hadn’t predicted this strange mutual interest. 

Spy casually shrugged. "Being here isn't...terrible." He smirked. "Not all of the time."


	20. Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally see what Engineer has been building

_ “Cairo, Egypt. El-Tahir, Ste 3. Come at once.” The young spy played the short recording again to be sure that was all. That was two weeks and two days ago he received the message on his communication watch. He’d hastily boarded the next flight, landed in Egypt, checked into the hotel room and waited.  _

_ But his mentor didn’t arrive. It didn’t occur to him that something was wrong, simply that his mentor didn’t need him yet. So he waited, and ensured he would be available by never leaving the room. But now as he listened to the communication again, a hundred times now, he became angry with himself. There was no reason to forego nice restaurants, or fresh air, and he hastily put on his coat to pursue those things.  _

_ The older spy was not a difficult man to follow. The tone of his voice and confidence made him a natural leader. But he was a spy, he was wildly unpredictable. There was a sense of danger in following him and never knowing what would be on the other side, or if he would still be there when you followed him. His protege never dared ask for more, however, in case it was something he could not give.  _

  
  


*

Spy followed the unspoken ritual of the day easily enough now. Typically, he hated routine and never wanted one day to repeat the previous day. The idea of being predictable or consistent was a dangerous thing to him. But when Spy followed Engineer's lead, predictable was nice. He knew what the man wanted from him, he knew what requests he must follow and what he might be forgiven for. Each day, he woke up in bed or in the kennel and waited for Engineer to lead them to breakfast. Spy tried to impress Engineer with cooking, although the American possibly had no standards at all for cuisine. They ate together. And then Spy returned to his hands and knees to crawl to the garage at Engineer's side. 

But today, Spy was certain they would finish the Engineer's machine. However, it was nearly complete and Spy couldn't even guess the function of the machine. To make things even more difficult, the Engineer hadn’t used a blueprint at all. With a pen and paper and all the time in the world to recreate the schematics, the Spy still would have been very challenged.

“Are you getting excited to see this thing in action?” Engineer asked.

“I was certainly hoping for a demonstration,” Spy answered.

“All right, one final touch.” Engineer was amused by the fact that Spy still seemed to have no clue what the machine they were building was. As soon as he put the last piece on, Spy would see it immediately, he knew. He went into the box of toys he kept in the garage to use on Spy. He came out with a ribbed black dildo, and slid it down on the metal rod that just barely poked through the seat of the machine. 

Spy was ready and waiting for his directions to bring tools or hold something. Of the tools Engineer could have brought out, Spy hadn’t expected expect a dildo. But when it was fitted in place on the machine he finally understood its purpose. 

Since the project began, Spy had repeated every detail he could recall to himself, trying to rebuild it in his mind if he ever found an interested buyer for the mercenary tech. And now the purpose of the machine was evident. It was a fucking machine—literally. He looked up at Engineer, feeling as if a very elaborate joke had been played on him. "Oh please... Are you serious?"

Engineer couldn't help but laugh. "I don't know what kinda weapon you thought this was, but it ain't gonna kill anybody." He patted the seat, looking at Spy with a little smile. "Now, about that demonstration… Want to go for a ride?" 

Spy scoffed and looked over the machine cautiously, not entirely sure that he believed the machine wasn't going to kill anybody. "Forgive me if I'm cautious. Your machines put plenty of holes through me during our work in the gravel wars." Spy looked at the dildo longer than he meant to. It was large, and thick, possibly enough to rival Engineer's own cock. "Perhaps if I saw it in action?"

Engineer nodded. He turned the machine on. He turned one of the dials up and, as it clicked into place, the dildo began to slide up and down, slowly. He continued turning the dial until it was going a good speed, then worked it back down. He kept an eye on Spy's expression as he did, curious to see his reaction. 

Spy watched with unbreakable focus as the ribbed cock started to thrust. The idea of this was so new, he didn't know what to think or what ideas to form. Would this machine be used to subdue him, like the wand and Engineer's many other toys? Was it a treat and a privilege to use, like Spy's metal plug? Spy balanced on the edge of fear and excitement as he imagined being opened up and fucked wide by this unfeeling, untiring machine. 

"I want to see you on it."

Spy didn't feel his cheeks becoming blushed, or his skin buzzing with excitement, or his cock becoming swollen and heavy. Engineer's words brought him back to the real world and he looked up at him, suddenly aware of how warm he felt. Spy placed a palm on the backrest and straddled the seat as gracefully as possible for someone who didn't know the machine well. After days of expecting this to become a weapon, it was a creative challenge to decide how a person would ride this comfortably instead. "Like so?"

Engineer arranged Spy's legs to make him more comfortable, nodding. "Keep your hands up against the headrest," he instructed.

Spy reached up to hold the headrest, but as he watched Engineer slick up the toy, he desperately wanted to touch it, also, and feel the material, the texture, the flexibility, and that ribbing.

Engineer finished slicking the dildo with lube and let it rise up between the padded seats. He carefully lined it up with Spy's hole, slowly impaling his captive on it. He didn't stretch Spy, but the dildo moved so slowly at first that he didn't think it would cause him much pain.

Spy let his head roll back. An expression of concentration covered his face as he focused on relaxing for the size. It was just enough to challenge Spy and the small pain was just enough to make him squirm.

Engineer stroked his hand over Spy's chest, teasing the original nipple piercing. The one he'd given Spy was still too new to be touched.

Spy's great effort to focus on the dildo in his ass was interrupted as Engineer played with his chest. His fresh piercing was a constant burning ache as the skin stretched and healed around the bar. Luckily, Engineer passed it over to tease Spy's original piercing.

Although he could expect Engineer to tease it whenever he had the chance, it was always sensitive and vulnerable. Spy squirmed under Engineer's fingers and squeezed the headboard tightly. He writhed as much as he could while keeping the dildo in his arse, and keeping his hands on the headboard. But writhing never scared Engineer off. If anything, Spy thought the Texan might  _ like  _ seeing his captive so distraught. 

Spy started to beg, "No more! Please, please, I can't sit still when you do that!" He screamed as a shiver ran up his spine and then he returned to squirming again, "Please, touch my cock. Touch me there, I'm desperate for you there." 

Once his nipple was hard and red and Spy was squirming, he let his hand wander down to brush his fingers over Spy's erect cock, teasing him. 

Spy dropped back to the padded support and breathed deeply. Spy's face was pure bliss now that he had e a heavy full cock resting inside of him and a hand so blessedly close to grasping his cock. Spy rocked his hips up,trying to make contact.

"That's it," Engineer chuckled. He sped up the machine, letting it pump into Spy. It made slick sounds as it worked in and out of him. He still didn't take Spy in hand completely. He ran his fingers over him, pinning his cock against his hip and stroking slowly up and down. Spy's expression was beautiful, and though Engineer wanted to see it, he also wanted to blindfold him, make him even more helpless. It was freeing, for Engineer, to not have Spy watching him. It was odd. He wasn't sure yet if this was a reward for Spy's good behavior, or a torment for nothing but Engineer's pleasure. Maybe it could be both.

That was an interesting idea: Both men, being truly satisfied by what they did together.

Spy readjusted the grip his hands had as the machine made a reasonable pace. It felt so much like being fucked by a living partner, except how absolutely tireless this machine was. How it never stopped to realign or find a more comfortable position. Spy's cock was hard but horribly underused. Spy pressed his hips in again, trying to find contact with Engineer's palm. He looked up at the man's face, trying to read it, trying to understand what he needed to do to get what he wanted. "Please. Tell me what you want, I'll do it." But Spy didn't even wait that long. A few deep thrusts of the machine and Spy was arching up and offering suggestions: "You want to finish first? I'll finish you with my mouth. I'll swallow everything. Please, touch me first.  _ Really  _ touch me!"

"You ain't gonna get off that easy," Engineer promised him. "You stay still," he said, releasing his cock altogether and getting up to grab a blindfold. He ran the soft material through his fingers first, before tying it gently around Spy's head, making sure his eyes were fully covered. Again, he sped up the machine, watching as Spy arched up. He bent down and took Spy's nipple in his mouth, again avoiding the new piercing. 

Spy collapsed to the reclining surface in frustration when Engineer unhanded him. But he couldn't truly relax with the machine fucking him. He let the blindfold go on, although he was a little nervous. The last time he’d worn this blindfold, Engineer had pierced his nipple. 

This time, Engineer only turned up the machine. 

Spy squeezed the headboard hard as he tried to stop himself from squirming away. He arched his body up and into Engineer's teasing lips. Spy responded immediately, and his cock started to leak seed for Engineer's attention. The Texan had a straight line to Spy's sexual responsiveness, but his sub resisted it each time anyway. Spy's hands left the headboard to hold Engineer's head and try to ease him away, " _ Non, non  _ ! It's too much for me!" He pulled away instantly. 

"Hands back up," Engineer snapped at him. "And keep them there." He put Spy's already-tender nipple between his mechanical fingers and squeezed it. His hand dipped down to Spy's cock again, teasing the head of it, smearing his precum across the sensitive skin. /span> 

Spy was murmuring quiet pleas under his breath, beyond pleased with the machine pumping inside him, but also desperate for more. With Spy blindfolded, Engineer felt confident enough to try something for the other man to enjoy. He kissed Spy's leg up to his thigh, then took his cock in his mouth. He gasped loudly as the mouth closed around his cock and his breath escaped as a loud moan. His pleas were louder, "Oui, oui, Monsieur. That's perfect!"

Engineer continued until he judged that Spy was getting too close to the edge. He withdrew from Spy's cock and slowed the machine down to a crawl. The dildo pressed in ever so slowly and pulled out at the same agonizing pace. "There," Engineer chuckled. "That's just right, ain’t it?" Orgasm delay could be torture, but that was part of the fun for him.

Spy's entire body was pulled tight as a bow string as he waited for what came next. But Engineer's words confirmed that  _ nothing  _ was coming next. This was it! He’d been brought nearly to the tipping point only to be left with a wet cock and a dildo moving only enough to remind him it was there. Spy bucked his hips and gasped desperately, "  _ Non!  _ Please don't stop. Damn it, I need you." He twisted his neck, trying to see through the gaps in the well-fitted blindfold.

Spy squirmed and begged, although he felt rather helpless knowing that his pleas wouldn't soften the Engineer's heart at all. Possibly, it just excited him and made him want to torment Spy more. But Spy was too desperate to try to resist. He gave in and begged for more.

Engineer leaned in, putting his mouth against Spy's ear. "I like hearing you beg," he murmured. He let Spy squirm and whine for almost a minute before he began to turn up the machine again. "Good boy," he praised him as Spy took all of it, never trying to stand or get away from the rod thrusting into his arse.

Engineer's praise made him feel warm. He was tempted to use his hands to get himself off if he was on the edge again. But the praise encouraged him to behave. Instead, Spy turned his head to Engineer's voice and purred over the hum of the fucking machine, "This is so good. You're so good to me, please, use your mouth again. I will be good for you."

Engineer watched the blindfolded face, reading the man's expressions so easily and knowing his captive did not have the same benefit. He liked to think the blindfold made Spy listen, especially to the sound of himself begging, prostrating himself mentally in order to please Engineer. Spy looked so lovely impaled on his machine, his body tensing and relaxing as it fucked him, his cock slick and leaking. It was a shame Spy couldn't see this also.

He dipped his head again and took Spy's cock in his mouth, laving his tongue over the head of it and working his way down.

Spy rolled his head back and whimpered only from how intense the pleasure was. He gave himself to the wet mouth wrapping around his cock and the hard rod filling him up. Sweat dampened his chest and forehead as if being fucked was a fully physical sport for him, causing dark grey ringlet curls of hair to stick to his skin.  _ "Merci,"  _ he purred,  _ “merci, c'est incroyable. Oui, suce-moi la bite!"  _ Spy knew not to take his hands off the headboard this time. Especially as he was getting everything he wanted and he was so close to climax again.

Engineer felt Spy's body tensing and twisting as he came closer and closer to cumming. He stopped the machine entirely and released Spy's cock. He waited for the cry of despair and couldn't help but delight in it. 

Spy raised his hips, trying to find the mouth again. He slammed his own head against the headboard in frustration, pleading, "I'm so close! I'm so close! Please!" And then pleasure simply deafeated reason. He started pumping his hips on the dildo, getting whatever friction he could from the small amount in him. He released his hands from the headboard to pump his cock in his palm and hold the Engineer off with the other hand. 

Engineer did not approve of the broken command, but the Spy's attempt to fight him off till he climaxed made him lose his temper. He grabbed him by the wrists and pinned over his head to the machine, squeezing them roughly. "If you wanna cum, you're gonna have to do it without anything touching you now." Spy had been so good up to this point, he thought he had the self control to get through this. "You're gonna make up for that later. In the basement."

Spy squirmed on the dildo head, hissing at the pain in his wrists but finding it difficult to think of anything but his orgasm. "Please, don't stop, sir! Please, finish me off. I don't care what you do with me after this, if you let me cum now!" His wrists pulled at Engineer's grip, but did not truly fight him. The man was so overwhelmed by waiting on the verge of orgasm, he simply couldn't be still.

"If you can cum for me without me touching you, I won't punish you," he chuckled.

Spy froze, "What? ... That is not possible." 

"It sure is." Engineer grinned, "It's something I was plannin' on doin with you some day. Training you to cum with nothing to go on but my cock up your ass." The fantasy had been swirling in his mind, the image of the Spy's cock hanging heavy, leaking, and then spilling without ever being touched. Engineer's voice dropped lower, "Might train you to cum when I command it with nothing but my open hand, spanking your ass raw." 

Spy shivered despite the heat radiating from his skin and the drop of sweat running down his chest. He started rocking himself down onto the dildo to take advantage of the small amount in him. He considered himself very well experienced in sex, but somehow the Engineer's expectations for his performance exceeded anything he knew.

Engineer leaned in, pressing his lips to the short grey curls of hair behind his ear. "Cum for me, Spy. I know you wanna stay outta the basement. No telling what might happen down there, hm?" Of course that was more threat than sexy, but Engineer wasn't trying to make it easy on him.

Spy was glad for the blindfold. He was tearing up. Although he wasn't sure if it was due to total desperation and need to finish off his very demanding unfinished climax, or fear, as Engineer started toying with the idea of the basement. His entrance was aching from how tightly he squeezed the tip that was barely inside of him, trying to squeeze as much pleasure as possible from the small amount.

Spy finally bowed his head in defeat. "I cannot finish myself off like this."

“You know where we’re headed, then.” Engineer’s voice was low. He turned the dial and the dildo lowered completely, leaving Spy empty. Engineer pulled off his blindfold. “Wipe down the machine,” he instructed.

Spy knew exactly where they were going. His captor made that so clear when he whispered in his ear. He sat up and looked to the Engineer. Spy wanted to beg for another chance, just another moment with a slick warm mouth around his cock. But looking at his face, Spy knew that there was no room for begging, self-serving interests now. 

Spy untangled long limbs from the machine and took a rag to wipe down every surface he’d touched. He hoped that putting careful attention to this task might gain some mercy from Engineer. And if not, it gave him some time before they went to the basement.

When Engineer didn't stop him to take him away, he wiped it down again, and again. He had a feeling that Engineer was going to let him service the machine as long as he chose, but the punishment was still unavoidable.

Engineer watched patiently. He had no reason to rush. There would always be enough time to punish the Spy, and the view right now was nice. He loved seeing him like this—wiping things down over and over, pouring his hard work onto the machine to avoid going down to the basement. Finally, with resentment and humiliation, Spy set down the cloth and knelt before Engineer. "I'm ready."

"Good," Engineer told him, stroking his hand over Spy's head again. He was glad he waited for this, kneeling in front of him and quietly telling him he would go down willingly. 

Engineer bent down, kissing the top of his head. "Come on," he murmured. 

Spy allowed himself a deep and calming breath during the kiss to the top of his head. His own hair was growing in too long to feel Engineer's stubble on his skin now, but he felt the warmth. Engineer didn't seem angry and he hoped that it meant this punishment would be easier. 

Spy lowered to his hands and crawled to the basement door and tried to ignore his painfully hard cock bobbing heavily as he moved. 

Engineer loved seeing Spy crawl so willingly now. He'd really become perfectly submissive during his time here. He didn't ask questions, he didn't lie, he didn't fight back. He did what was expected of him and he did it as well as he could. 

Engineer let Spy lead them down the stairs, nudging him towards the table. He got Spy bent over it at the hips, his ass in the air at a good height for Engineer. Once Spy was settled he put a selection of toys in front of him, some wicked looking, some gentle looking. "Pick one to remove." 

Spy heard Engineer laying down tools on the table and he lifted his head to see what his inventory was. The selection included many of the options from the last time Engineer made a layout, with some additions. Spy whimpered as his eyes traveled from one item to the next. He knew he’d disobeyed the Engineer but he balked at going back to how hard and painful those first sessions had been. 

Spy lowered his forehead to the cool metal and took a deep breath to calm himself as he answered, "The... How do you call it? That long whip."  _ s'il vous plaît.  _ "

"Alright," Engineer took the dragon tail off the table. Now the selection was slightly gentler without the whip. "Now... pick your favourite."

Spy lifted his head again and looked past the selection at Engineer with suspicion. "What will you do with my choice?" Spy questioned him. He needed a strategy. He needed to know what hand he was having in his own torture. 

Engineer didn't answer. Spy's voice caught in his throat; he was surprisingly embarrassed to answer anything as intimate as a favourite on a table of toys toys to punish him. "The feathers." He was referring to a toy with a handle and long flexible neck like the riding crop, with a bouquet of feathers on the end. 

Engineer chuckled, lifting the gentle toy and testing the weight of it. He cleared the rest of the toys away. He walked behind Spy, the feathers dragging over his back. There were plenty of long pauses in between strokes. Everything was gentle and soft. 

Spy shivered at first as the feathers drifted down his spine. It was the lightest and softest touch he’d received since his arrival. He didn't expect how utterly sensitive he would be to these touches, but nearly every stroke caused him to move a little. Spy's long and slender body moved in the way he did under the riding crop, despite the very different implement. He lifted his hips when the feathers traced the underside of his ass, and his legs trembled when it touched down his thighs and up the insides. The Frenchman was lost in his thoughts for a moment, just feeling the sensation now. 

He decided that the Engineer could not be too unhappy with his behavior, to be playing with him like this now. 

A real punishment might make him regret his behavior. But for this, he felt guilty for not being more obedient. Spy let his eyes drift shut from the sensations and murmured, "I'm sorry. I couldn't control myself through the pleasure you gave me. I was weak." He lifted up onto his toes, and raised his arse as high as possible when the feathers stroked up. Spy wanted to make the touch last as long as possible.

“You were,” Engineer agreed, and the feathers stopped. There were a few sounds behind Spy and suddenly there was the clap of a whip. The striker didn’t even touch him yet, just snapped in the air over his skin.

Spy yelped loudly and threw himself forward to the table, causing it to scrape across the floor. He waited for the sting of the whip and was relieved it hadn’t come yet. He turned his head to see the long whip slithering like a snake back to Engineer and coiling behind him as he brought his arm back again. "I'm sorry!" The words were the same but his tone was urgent and fearful. Not at all wistful or dreamy. "Please, tie me down next time! I won't complain, I won't fight! I don't intend to break these rules, but I cannot control myself!"

"I ain't tying you down when you're getting fucked," Engineer told him. He flicked the bullwhip again, letting it crack over top of Spy's back, still not touching him. "So you better work on that self control." He let the bullwhip drop again and stroked Spy's back with the feathers, curious to see if he'd flinch just from a gentle touch.

Expecting the sound now, Spy only flinched but didn't yell when the whip cracked in the air above him. He desperately wanted to crawl away, but he knew not to make the same mistake twice. Spy flinched again when the feathers moved up his spine but he breathed with so much relief it was a hiss when he knew it wasn't the whip. Rather than squirm and lift up to meet the brush, Spy nearly melted under it and let it touch him however Engineer pleased.

Engineer watched Spy slowly relaxed under the feathers. Again, he stroked it over Spy’s skin slowly, with many pauses where he did nothing, waiting until Spy tensed, afraid of what might come next. "You're gonna do better next time," he said.

Spy didn't know how to earn more of this treatment and avoid the whip. " _ Oui! Bien sûr  _ !" he agreed. He was almost trembling when the feathers left his skin. "Please, take me back now. I'll prove myself!”

“You already proved what you’re worth today.” The whip cracked again and this time the striker lapped over Spy’s back.

Spy arched his back and shouted when the whip made contact. Half of him yearned for cover and pulled away from the table, but the other part of him gripped the edge of the table. Spy was nearly kneeling, reaching up to hold the table still, and permitting Engineer an excellent view of the lash he’d put across his back. 

Spy's nails scraped on the metal table and he scrambled back to his position. "I was weak! I can be better!" Spy insisted through gasping breaths.

The feathers returned. The soft touch traced around the lash mark at first, then ran over it. The skin was so sensitive that even the gentleness of the feathers stung like a slap. “I know you will, if I give you some motivation.” Engineer appreciated Spy squirming and wincing away, but returning to where he’d been put. “Once we’re done here, you’ll remember yourself next time.” 

Despite his squirming and pleading, the spy proved to have great control of his pain. His breaths came evenly and he didn't allow himself to breathe too quickly, or not at all. He firmly held himself still. He wasn't crying, though the pain of the bullwhip was certainly much worse than the hand spanking that had nearly broken him. But this was the kind of torture that the rogue was trained and experienced to survive. Well... Perhaps not the feathers. As they touched his fresh lash, he gritted his teeth and growled, instantly hating the use of the 'favourite choice.' 

Engineer was close enough to touch him with the short handle and Spy's head turned sharply to face him. "You made your point, sir. I'll remember my rules  _ now  _ ."

“One lash ain’t much of a reminder,” Engineer said. He stepped in closer and rubbed his broad hand over the thick welt the whip had left. Spy wouldn’t be able to comfortably lie on his back tonight. “I don’t like that tone, either,” he chided. He returned to the feathers for a minute before the whip flicked through the air and struck Spy again, a little lower. This welt rose instantly as well, red and angry looking.

The muscle-covered, thicker area of his back burned hot from pain under every crack of the whip. The second lash added to the burn of the first and he took a moment to breathe through the pain and carefully police his tone. When he spoke again, his tone was much softer. "How many lashes make a reminder?" Spy knew he had an option to get away from this. He could scream ‘Mercy’ at any point. If he screamed ‘Mercy,’ Engineer would put down the whip and take him to his cell and he could bitterly tend to his burning lashes with the sink, before they added up. But Spy desperately wanted to go upstairs again with the Engineer. He wanted to chew on a cigarette filter and drink bitter coffee and burn the tip of his tongue badly enough to distract him from the whip marks. He could endure another lash for that... Maybe he would endure a  _ few  _ more lashes for that. But that common phrase "forty lashes." That was too much. At only two now, forty was an eternity.

Engineer gave Spy an impossible question. “How many do you deserve?” If he said he’d already suffered enough Engineer would disagree with him, but if he gave a higher number than Engineer had been thinking, he was asking for more pain than his captor had intended to put him through. The feathers were back, avoiding the welts for a time and running up Spy’s inner thighs.

Spy's thighs flinched and jumped. The sensation of the tickle was a sharp contrast from the whip. Earlier he’d let the feathers tease him and open up his nerves to make him soft and malleable to Engineer. But now he was trying to harden himself for the lashes. 

Spy turned his head away from Engineer, glaring hard at nothing; not his captor. It was an impossible question to guess the number in Engineer's mind. But it was harder to answer 'honestly.' Spy couldn't imagine he deserved a whipping at all for breaking his self control or letting himself climax without Engineer's blessing. "I deserve bondage and orgasm denial!" Spy answered. When he realised he didn't feel the feathers on his skin he panicked and gripped the table, hoping he was in the absent period between teasing strokes of the feather.

Engineer couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Not so sure about that, but we can do that after this, if that’s what you think you deserve.” If the rope went over even a single welt, it would be excruciating. The rub of even the softest rope would hurt. 

Spy tensed when the feathers disappeared. 

“I’ll give you three more.” That was fairly lenient; it would leave him with pain and make him uncomfortable for the next few days, but he wouldn’t bleed, and his back wouldn’t scar.

“Count the strokes, out loud.” That would force Spy to ask for each lash, to know when it was coming.

Spy snarled at Engineer's suggestion. He wasn't going to endure two punishments at the hands of his captor, if it was not necessary. But all he could consider at that moment was the distance of Engineer's voice. He was on the other end of a long and heavy whip. 

Engineer snapped the whip again, aiming away from Spy this time.

Spy flinched as the whip cracked. A breath he was holding to breathe out through the pain escaped in a relieved pant. A total of five sounded like torture. Any whipping was torture, however. Five total meant he wasn't even half way through. Spy spoke through gritted teeth, "Three more! Let's finish this, then..."

“Call out the number for me,” Engineer demanded, the whip neatly coiled in his hand. Though he fully intended to punish Spy as he’d asked, he wouldn’t do it tonight with Spy already so tender.

Spy glared, but stopped himself before he turned the look on his captor. He could control himself that well, at least. "One..." Spy tested carefully. Unsure if he was naming what was coming next or what was already burning on his back.

At Spy’s command, Engineer brought the whip down across his back with a red-hot crack. “That’s it,” he coaxed him. “Two more.”

Spy's hips twisted but his solid grip held him in place. He hung his head and breathed through the pain. if he was in charge of the pace, he was giving himself the time to recover that he needed. After almost a minute, Spy 'requested' the next. "Two."

Engineer waited patiently, taking the feathers to Spy’s ass and thighs as he waited for Spy to be ready for the next strike. The sting of the whip wrapped around his ribs and stung his side too. Engineer brought out the feathers again, running them over the new welts. 

Spy was caught between wanting to be done with this punishment, and wanting to not face the final strike. The lick that traced his ribs carried a horrible itch around it, and he desperately wanted to scratch it. But touching the raised whip marks would be agonising. Engineer reminded him of that as he tormented the fresh marks with the feathers. Spy shuddered under the feathers and realised Engineer was going to torment him during the time he waited between whip cracks. Spy gasped, "Three!" and braced himself.

The last whipping done with, and five thick welts on Spy’s back, Engineer put the whip away. “There,” he said, putting an arm around Spy’s waist. “You took it so well.”

Spy trembled briefly but sneaked a look up at Engineer. The man didn't seem to be mocking him at all. It was genuine after care. Spy didn't want to like it. He didn't want to let this man comfort him now, after soundly whipping him. But he didn't want to be cold, alone, and in pain. 

Spy carefully stood up and let Engineer hold his narrow waist with one arm. He didn't pull away; in fact, he possibly leaned closer to the broader man, but commented, "That was cruel."

“I expect more from you.” Engineer supported Spy by the waist, leading him upstairs. There was not much he could do for welts like those except maybe a cool cloth, but that might hurt more than soothe. He put Spy in bed, letting him lie down as comfortably as he could.

Spy let Engineer put him in bed, and he was grateful for the softness. At this point, Spy certainly understood that he was not a prisoner who weaseled his way into gentler treatment in his captor's bed. He wasn't sure what words to use for his situation. It certainly wasn't something he trained for.


	21. Candles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out a little more as Spy struggles

_ The young Frenchman put his hands on his mentor's palms and they both looked down at the dark red scabs and pinched skin where the two middle fingers on his left hand used to be. _

_ He could still feel the pain of the knife that cut through the tendons where his fingers once met his hands. But worse, he could remember the sickening, unsettling cold metal touching nerves that had never felt anything but body-warmth beneath his skin. _

_ "You're lucky it was these two fingers. You can still support the bottom of a gun, and pull the trigger. But these two in the middle, after you have adjusted, you won't miss them." The mentor assured. _

_ He must have been right. After all, what use does anyone have for a middle finger, or a ring finger? _

*

Spy woke before Engineer. It was hard to sleep as deeply as the man beside him when some part of his body was always recovering from a new punishment. At some point in their sleep, Engineer went from resting his human hand on Spy's thigh to resting the palm of the gunslinger on his narrow hip. Spy held his head up with a hand under him to stare at the metal hand. For something he was very familiar with as a weapon, it could look surprisingly gentle, almost affectionate, in the way it touched him. Unable to sleep now, too aware of his own pains, Spy sat up to satisfy his curiosity instead. His slender hands lifted the gunslinger carefully to hold it in his lap.

Spy was rather certain that there were no living nerves in the metal. The gunslinger couldn't feel his open palm holding it, or a curious finger tracing the hinges of each digit where a knuckle belonged.

Engineer didn't move at all as Spy's soft touch explored any of the contours, and he became a little more bold. Spy curled each metal fingers and watched delicate counter weights, springs, and tension move. Most of these details were guarded under more sturdy pieces of metal, but watching it work was somehow like watching the mechanics of a real human hand without skin. Spy lost himself in his thoughts, thinking of his own two missing fingers on his non-dominant hand. It had hurt to lose them and he wondered how much worse it was to lose the entire dominant hand from below the elbow.

Engineer woke slowly, vaguely aware of someone with him, touching him. Spy was sitting over him, looking over his gunslinger with great interest. He stifled a yawn. He was getting used to waking up with Spy over him. “You gonna work with me today?”

Spy lifted his hand out of the way as the gunslinger came to life. Moving, twitching, shifting in small ways like a natural hand. It sounded like a friendly invitation but he knew not to expect anything easy. "I'm sure we are finished building your machine already." Spy raised a brow.

Engineer sat up in the bed. "We are. But lucky for you, I got another job in mind. You know what they say…"

Spy shivered as he remembered his mentor's words. 'When a Conagher isn't engineering, he is breaking spies.'

"Idle hands are the devil's workshop." The American finished his thought, then stood up beside the bed to dress.

Breakfast was, as usual, a quick affair. Whenever Engineer cooked, the food was very basic. It was clear he had no real love of cooking, and although the Frenchman enjoyed the simple chore so much, he had lost the privilege. 

The spread of food wasn't satisfying for Spy at all, but he was too hungry to complain at all. His body was showing the result of the recent meals he missed after being sent to the cell. He looked less and less like a devilishly handsome rogue, and more like a caricature of a French model.

After their breakfast he crawled to the garage. Engineer placed him, standing, facing the work table and Spy immediately protested to standing on the not-fully-healed welts on his feet. Engineer gave him a firm look and the Frenchman quit his complaining. It was uncomfortable, but if he was difficult he knew Engineer would make it painful. 

Engineer grabbed two wide candles, and put their bases in Spy's hands, positioning him to hold each wide, wax cylinder up, above his chest. He lit a match, holding it to the wicks until they lit up. He arranged his captive so his arms were up high enough to hold the candles above his chest. “Stay like that.” Then he sat down to work.

Spy held the light candles in his palms easily. They fit well and let his fingers wrap up around them. It was a simple task. The warm glow of the candle was even pleasant, almost meditation, to watch. They worked together in silence with Engineer's pencil scratching across paper, and Spy's candles burning down. Spy was only beginning to find his arms aching and he rolled his shoulders. The movement caused the melted wax gathered on the surface to roll down the side of the candle and pour over one of Spy's fingers and knuckles. Spy was surprised by how much the hot wax on his fingernail and knuckle burned. "The wax is dripping." Spy alerted Engineer.

“Mhm,” Engineer sounded distracted, uncaring. Like he had intended for the wax to drip over Spy’s hands.

Spy frowned at Engineer, noting how the man barely seemed to notice him. Another hot drop of wax rolled into his hand and he dropped the insubordinate expression. He watched the candles and commented something he expected Engineer would notice, "It's likely to drop wax on your work..." And it certainly would if Spy didn't keep himself steady.

“Then keep it on your hands,” he finally turned his gaze to Spy, giving him a smirk.

Spy was glad for the attention, but it wasn't the sympathy he hoped for. The playful smirk didn't give Spy any reason to relax. He knew when Engineer was giving him a command. It was more difficult with every passing moment to hold himself still. The position was not painful but weighed on his arms as time went on and his arms wobbled at the effort of holding the candles up. "The wax is BURNING my hands, sir." Spy stated in an obvious tone, but he reminded to add a respectful "sir" to the end, said in a much more appropriate tone.

“Mhm,” he repeated, “You’ll put up with it, though, won’t you?” Engineer estimated the melting temperature of the wax, he knew that though it would -hurt- it wouldn’t cause real damage. Spy could struggle through it until he broke through to that pleasant place where he talked so easily. And until that, Engineer could work on his next tool to use on the Spy, fine tuning the details on paper.

Spy's shoulders sunk a little and he answered, "Yes, sir." It seemed like the only appropriate response. He didn't want to challenge Engineer. He didn't want to stir up his anger. Spy was a strong and intelligent man and he wanted to prove that no task was impossible for him. If he proved it, he was sure he could earn that sweet and wonderful praise he now anticipated. But clearly the Engineer wasn't going to make this easy. After a long while in silence, Spy's hands wobbled and he gasped through his teeth as wax burned the webbing between his fingers. "Let's have a break." Spy suggested, knowing it was too early to ask for lunch.

“Thirty more minutes,” Engineer told him. He could see Spy’s hands shaking, his arms sinking more and more with each minute that passed. The little sounds of pain he made were satisfying, they made Engineer want to twist his nipple piercing.

Spy stared deeply at the candle in his hands and wondered if thirty minutes was the remaining life of the candles. Engineer gave him clearly defined rules and Spy was so determined to thrive under those conditions. Thirty minutes, and two melting candles stood between him and praise. Spy could very nearly hear the words, praising his form and composure. His mentor didn't like the idea of praise, Spy thought bitterly. That older man commanded him and considered the reward for success to be that his pupil walked away as a better spy. At the time, when he was younger, that was enough for him: to have this fiercely dangerous and respectable man breaking him and building a Spy through challenging orders. 

Spy's hands swayed slightly and liquid hot wax poured down the side of the candle into Spy's palm. The Frenchman gasped and jerked slightly, causing more to spill, and more burning pain to heat his hands. The wax was becoming hotter as the candle burned down. There was less and less distance for the wax to roll down and cool. And as the candle continued to burn down, it would only become hotter still. Spy looked up to Engineer desperately, not noticing how the man looked past his face to the wrench-themed nipple piercing on his chest. "I can't endure thirty more minutes of this!"

The candle might have burnt down to nothing by the time they were done, might actually burn Spy's hands, but the wax would put the fire out before it touched his skin. His arms and hands were exhausted from holding himself still like that, even with the slight weight of the candles felt heavy after so long. Holding his arms up without support was a stress position.

Engineer nodded, he turned in his seat and he reached down under Spy’s arms to pinch his nipple, the one that he pierced, and marked with a small wrench-shaped bar. "You're going to endure it." The Frenchman gasped and arched his back.

He loved when Spy was like this, when he was soft and eager to please. Subspace was a good look for him. Engineer wanted him to succeed, he wanted to reward him, but he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to take this sweet, obedient Spy to the bed and fuck him now. Engineer had a job to crack this man open and take everything he knew.

His arms shook and more wax tipped and rolled over his palms and up his arms. His skin started to flush and his cock stiffened. His eyes were unfocused, as he demanded, “Why am I doing this?”

“Because I told you to.” Engineer answered, not releasing his fierce pinch. “Is that enough?”   
  
“ _ Oui _ , this is enough.” He very eagerly lowered his hands and folded his palms to break the wax away and let the candles fall to the floor. He twisted away from Engineer’s pinch, pushing at his hand to free himself. “Enough, enough.” He muttered quietly.

Engineer sighed, frustrated. The Spy broke free of this challenge too soon for the breakthrough Engineer wanted. He repeated, phrasing his words differently, “Isn’t it reason enough to obey, knowing that I asked it of you?”

“ _ Quoi _ ?” The Frenchman asked with a hesitant tone.

“Come on.” Engineer stood up and patted his thigh to summon the other to follow. Most days he considered it quite fun to push the spy to his limits when he had no chance of success. But today he failed too soon. He kept his complaints private and was careful to hide his frustration on his expression also. He opened the door of the kennel for the spy to crawl inside.   
  
The long, slender man bowed his head and crawled into the wire cage under the watchful eye of his captor. He eased down to the floor of the kennel in exhaustion and waited for the familiar sound of the lock clasping around the latch. As Engineer went to leave, Spy muttered, “I never need to ask questions to follow an order. I always know what the purpose is.”   
  
The Texan stopped and crouched down beside the kennel. The Frenchman was laying down, exhausted, softened by the pain he endured, but frustrated with his own performance. He continued speaking, “I know what function I serve on a team. I know what my job is, I know how my skills are used. I always know. But I don’t know what you want from me.”

It was becoming easier to recognise when the spy was lost in his thoughts and freely offering information, and when he needed a gentle push to steer him. “You expect me to believe that? You don’t know what I want from you, but you got everyone else figured out, hm?”

The Spy hissed, “ _ Ouais _ ! I know the Administrator positioned me against you so that any of your creations would appear on her desk before they were finished on yours!”

“You think that’s any sort of secret? That ol’ lady lays awake at night fearin’ what Conaghers might come up with.” He let his lips curl into a grin, wondering if the Spy even knew that before Elizabeth was the Administrator she was a spy, creating careful alliances that would lock men in war for years and secure a cozy place of power for herself.

The Spy sat up, “I recruited my colleague, the RED Medic, to the Classic Team. The Classics are missing their own medic, and my colleague’s skills speak for themselves. But, I know they wanted him because even my Heavy Weapons colleague cannot threaten the Classic Team without his Medic to back him up.”   
  
The Texan nodded, thoughtful and pensive. These were dangerous words that carried tremendous weight. The Administrator needed to know immediately, and Ms Pauling needed to assemble what was left of her teams. The broad man stood up, satisfied that this session was not so wasteful after all. “Well, consider me a believer. You really do got ‘em all figured out.” He returned to the garage to make a call to the administrator. 


	22. Hot Lamp

_ The young spy took care to never steal from his employers, or his mentor, until today. It rested gently in his palm in the bottom of his coat pocket, and it felt dangerous enough to burn a hole through his skin. His hairs were standing up, and the world was echoing in his ears for fear of being caught. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He tucked himself away in his apartment, locked the door, and closed the curtains before bringing out his prize: a balaclava. He smoothed it out in his hands and studied it closely. It was nothing but an empty mask, but because it was the mask that covered his mentor’s face he could not help but feel that he was holding his mentor’s face in his hands. The young spy’s fingertips stroked the edge, seeking the contour of the cheek and jawline, and holding onto the fleeting sense of satisfaction. _

*

Engineer freed the spy from his kennel the next morning, granting a fresh slate. Together they performed an almost domestic morning ritual as they took breakfast in the kitchen, then each showered and shaved in the bathroom. The straight edge and electric trimmer that Engineer used to torment spy were both lost to the flood in the basement, but he had a standard and much less dangerous shaving razor in the bathroom.

Engineer shaved his own jawline first, watching himself in the foggy mirror over the vanity. Then he seated his spy on the edge of the vanity to shave him as well. The Spy’s chin fit very nicely in Engineer’s hand and he found he liked the feeling of the stubble in his hand. The Frenchman had a marvelous devilish quality to his stubble that made him fiercely handsome, not sloppy looking at all. Shaved completely clean he looked so soft and sweet, utterly vulnerable to whatever Engineer wanted.

The Texan’s broad hand moved up the other’s jawline to his scalp. His hair was growing in again, longer than he ever allowed his own hair before his trimmer broke. “It’s about time to trim this again.” Spy’s hair was just long enough to show it’s dark colour and the distinct blocks of grey along his temples, and the single grey patch above his forehead. It was starting to curl, and some of the locks were very feathery soft in Engineer’s hand. He adjusted the razor in his hand and then he set it down on the counter instead, “Maybe tomorrow.”

Spy answered immediately, “_Merci._” Engineer ignored it. It was not an act of mercy, or a reward for Spy to let him keep his hair a little longer.

Spy was sweet and quiet this morning, and Engineer appreciated it. He stroked his hand over Spy's hair several times that morning. It was a warm, affectionate gesture. Once they were ready, and in the garage, Engineer let Spy sit silently next to him for a time, until he was ready to start his real work. He was working on the life extender for the Administrator, and would need bits of Australium throughout. He indicated for Spy to hold up his hands and put a small container of golden liquid in his hands. "Be careful with that, now. You know what it's worth, don't you?"

Spy turned the vial in his hands and certainly understood that it was something valuable. He didn't answer Engineer quickly. Instead he continued to examine the thing, like he was unraveling a puzzle in his mind. "This is Australium. It’s more precious than gold, but… why do you have this?"

The rich gold fluid swayed in the container like liquid gold, and as he studied the weight and nature of it he realised why he never held this in his hands before. Australium was very rare. He rephrased his question then, "_How _ do you have this?"

“It’s pretty rare that a Conagher _ doesn’t _ have a little to work with,” was his only explanation. “You’ve never seen it used? Do you know what it does?” Engineer continued to focus on the little machine in his hand, but spoke with Spy easily as he did. It was no great difficulty for him, to carry a conversation while tinkering on this machine he knew so well.

Spy answered easily, "_Bien sûr_! This is the secret behind the Australian's overly masculine, mustachioed nature." He was right, but very clearly knew nothing about what Australium could do for those regular people of any other nationality. "I was going to disguise myself as one of those very manly Australians." Spy explained with amusement in his voice. "Tall, and wide, and with a mustache as thick as a broom's brush... Not your type at all," He flashed a playful grin before he continued, "But good enough to distract the locals and not let them realise too soon that their Australium was mined and gone." 

The casual conversation chilled Engineer. The Classic Team wasn’t just mining enough Australium to make themselves invincible, they were mining enough to starve the rest of Australia. The Administrator needed to know, and Ms. Pauling needed to assemble their team immediately. But even if they stood a chance, the Engineer didn’t want to get involved with this battle, on a team without a medic.

Spy sat back on his heels and rested the vial of Australium in his lap, allowing himself to relax a little. “Arms up,” Engineer corrected, lifting Spy’s hands. “And don’t you dare spill a drop.” The machine he was working on had two main tubes ready to be injected into a person, plus metal attachments to keep it buried safely against the skin. “Looks like that plan didn’t work out for you.”

Spy scoffed, "_Non _... I unexpectedly missed my flight for Australia." He looked at the Texan very critically as he spoke. 

“How did you find out about Australium?”

Spy reluctantly maintained his arms up and tried to distract himself with the conversation being offered, "My mentor. The Classic Team has a very personal interest in the matter. It is probably the reason they ended up with Greymann. Greymann spent years locating every untapped Australium mine possible, before breaking ground and making his move against Blutarch and Redmond." 

He couldn't imagine this vial of Australium to be useful to anyone but the Australian Sniper. And yet, this Engineer had a personal supply, apparently for his craft. Spy knew there was some use for the Australium that Engineer knew. There was some value to this strange amber liquid, and it pained Spy to know almost nothing about it. Boldly, the Frenchman suggested, "Teach me."

"It's useful enough for war. It's part of what makes your cloaking device work, you know, and part of any respawn system." Engineer said. "That's why I've always got some on hand. Never know when I’ll need to make something so advanced, the enemy will never see it coming." It didn’t really matter if Engineer told Spy a little about the stuff. He wasn’t ever going to leave here anyway.

Even so, he didn’t mention that when Australium was injected into the bloodstream it was practically the elixir of life. His grandfather had lived an incredibly long life just from being exposed to the stuff, and he was likely to have the same effects. He certainly looked younger than he was already. It was often that he was mistaken for a man a decade younger than he was.

The Spy was surprised to learn this about his own watch. He lifted up onto his knees again and raised his chin to see what Engineer was working with on the desk. “How does it make my cloaking device work?” 

“Did you get a degree in engineering while you were in that basement?” Engineer chuckled as he stroked Spy's head gently. He kept them working for hours, watching as Spy's arms began to tremble and twitch from the effort of keeping them up. When he was nearly ready for lunch, he took the Australium and pumped a little of it through the machine. The entire thing lit up gold with just a few drops and he grinned. It was better than the previous model and leagues better than the giant hissing and groaning machines his grandfather once built for Blutarch and Redmond.

Spy's arms dropped as soon as Engineer took the vial of Australium. He eagerly suggested, "Let's stop for lunch. I can cook something for you that is exquisite." Then Spy smirked and raised a brow, "Or if you aren't interested in that menu, we can go to the bedroom..."

Engineer pressed his palm to the top of Spy's head, as though to quiet him. "You can make lunch. After that we're back in here." As tempting as it was to fuck Spy again, to torment him with pain and pleasure until he came several times in a row, Engineer resisted. The night Spy had spent in the cell had left Engineer fantasizing about pinning him to the bed and sliding his cock into him. But he needed to visit the Administrator again, and he needed to have as much new information as possible to prove he was conducting valuable work here.

Spy was having similar thoughts to the Engineer as far as bedroom play. It was days since their last sexual encounter, but every time his captor gave him sexual attention, Spy felt doubly excited for more. Spy was less excited about the ‘work’ Engineer gave to his prisoner. There was a strange quality of excitement to it. The firm quality of leadership and control and the constant threat of danger made Spy feel strangely secure, and also in danger. Spy went to the kitchen with Engineer and prepared their lunches.

Spy worked diligently, and suggested. "Perhaps we can extend our break... Lay down in the bedroom and get no rest at all together." He smiled seductively. The Frenchman was full of them, and was intent to have his way. There was a time when this sneaky and manipulative behavior was to take a key from a captor’s pocket. But now, the Spy was genuine and honest for this much at least, he was simply sexually desperate. He served the engineer his plate first, then his own.

“If you behave, you can be in bed with me tonight.” Engineer refused to bend. He had rules to follow. Both for himself and Spy. There was no leniency, no slip ups, no mistakes. This man was a spy, untrustworthy even when broken. Engineer had turned him into a pet, a man that crawled at his feet and yearned for his praise. But Spy was still dangerous. Even a pet snake was still a snake.

The corner of Spy's mouth turned up. It was an incredible incentive just to be out of the kennel and in Engineer's bed. "Let me guess, you're going to make it hard on me."

“Have I ever made things easy?” Engineer laughed. He knew he was hard to please, but it made Spy work that much harder to please him. He finished his meal in a few quick bites, no intention of prolonging their break. “Let’s see you walk to the garage from here, to start.” The purple welts on Spy’s feet from the brutal caning days ago were faded to almost nothing.

The taller man was surprised by the request. He spent very little time on his feet, and something as simple as standing up and walking seemed like an honour to have. He stood carefully on his feet while cooking but didn’t walk much yet. He stood up, aware of Engineer’s careful eye on him. He knew the man was gauging his sensitivity, but didn’t know what for. Spy winked over his shoulder at the Engineer as he turned to walk himself to the garage.

“Thought as much,” Engineer nodded, following his captive. Once in the garage he indicated where Spy could stand. He took a light with large metal shell around it and put it in Spy’s hands. Spy held Engineer’s things for him before lunch, and now he would hold a heavier light for him, and he would be standing on recently-healed feet as well for an additional challenge. He plugged in the cord and the light lit up the table. Engineer lifted Spy’s hands just so, indicating that he should stay like that. He sat at his table and continued his work.

Spy held the light up with ease. The aluminium shell was light weight and possibly the power cord weighed more than it. This was an easy task that could possibly last for hours. Spy was quite confident that he would succeed and join the engineer in bed tonight.

Spy held the light exactly as he was positioned to hold it, without issue, for a while. The glow of the light started as a warm touch, but after a while, it felt like a sunburn on his fingers. He lifted his fingers, holding it in his palms where he found the surface pleasantly warm. But he expected that pleasant warmth was temporary. It was going to become hotter while Engineer worked on this device. 

"How long will I stay like this?" Spy questioned while the Engineer worked.

“Until I’m done,” came the only answer. Engineer was not paying much attention to him. “You’re not that weak, are you? I think this is pretty lightweight for you.”

Spy frowned, his pride was struck by the insult and he answered quickly, "_ Non _, I'm not weak." 

Spy returned to service in silence. He held the metal shell and let his mind wander. However, even his mind couldn't wander far from the Engineer's hold. Spy was certain that this situation was similar to the scene with the candles melting down his hands. As those candles burned down and the wax became hotter and hotter, Engineer made it clear that he was not concerned by the discomfort for Spy. Spy failed his task with the candles. He dropped them, and he was sure that there was no chance for a gentle night in bed if he did that. The shell of the lamp wasn't nearly as hot as the candle wax was, and Spy was determined not to return to the kennel tonight. 

After a long silence passed, he shifted his hands to try holding the shell more easily and as his fingertips slid over untouched metal, the heat of the surface surprised him. The typically graceful man fumbled the lamp, but regained it before it fell. Engineer was surprised when the light was fumbled and he was left in the dark for a moment. He knew Spy had nearly dropped the light entirely. 

He returned to his position for holding it and started nudging for negotiations, "If I cannot hold this until you're done... Not that I cry for mercy, simply that I can't go on... What then?"

Engineer frowned. He’d thought he’d given Spy a fairly easy task today. It was a stress position, yes, but he’d done those before. “I guess you’ll find out if you can’t manage it,” he snorted. “But honestly, it ain’t that heavy.”

Spy muttered, "It isn't the weight that concerns ,” but Engineer didn’t hear him. The hot metal where he recaptured his grip took a long time to cool to the temperature of his warm palms. But it barely cooled to a tolerable temperature before it started to heat up unbearably again.

His slender hands looked for opportunity away from the pain. He held the shell in his fingertips only and tolerated the heat while his palms cooled. But it was not sustainable. His skin never cooled enough to make the light tolerable to hold again. And the light was only becoming hotter still. 

Spy no longer stated his needs in that firm and demanding tone he once used with his teammates and peers. "Please, let me rest again!” His hands started to tremble.

Engineer looked up at Spy very firmly. The playful amusement Spy was becoming used to was gone. Engineer looked ready to bend Spy over the workbench. His fingers curled around a long, wide ruler on the surface and Spy held his breath. He felt his cheeks flushing, and his stomach becoming tight. The sit-spot of his arse felt warm in anticipation of the ruler. “I don’t want to hear another word from you, unless it’s ‘Mercy’.” He raised a brow, “Got it?”

Spy shuddered and nodded, knowing not to fall for a trick like that by answering with words. The Frenchman bit his lip and forced down his whimpers as he let the other man work. The metal seemed to grow as hot as fire. When the metal seemed to get so hot that it couldn’t become any hotter, it would become searing cold, as painful as frostbite. Then it would flip, like a switch, and his nerves would realise again that they were being burned and beg him to recoil from the pain, something he couldn’t do.

They worked like this for a long time. It felt like hours to the Spy. He closed his eyes to work through the pain through old methods of self-preservation he learned in training. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, loud click. He opened his eyes and saw the light was off, Engineer’s hand was on a switch on the cord. His chest flooded with relief.

“_Merci, merci_.” Spy whimpered with relief. He brought in a shuddering breath to say more, but gratitude was the only thing in his mind. “Thank you, sir.”

Engineer stilled as a realisation started to come to the surface. He thought the Spy was behaving quite spoiled to complain as much as he had about the weight, but his gratitude to simply have the light turned off implied something else. Then he saw how Spy held the light, and it clicked.  
  
He grabbed the light to take it out of Spy’s hands and pulled back abruptly from the burning heat. “Shit!” He took it in his gunslinger and lifted it out of Spy’s hands, revealing the man’s bright red slender palms, and the blisters that were already raising up. He grit his teeth and cursed again, “Shit…”

Engineer gripped Spy’s arm and pulled him along, out of the garage. Spy immediately started to shudder, “_Non! Non_, I thought we were done! I thought I could speak! Please, forgive me! It was only gratitude, I-”

Engineer walked past the basement door as he interrupted Spy’s pleas, “I’m not punishing you.” Spy was quiet again, but still very tense until Engineer released him to take a first aid kit in the bathroom.

Engineer put Spy’s hands in the sink and turned on the cold water to let it flow over his red skin. After Spy’s skin was cool again, he put cream on his blisters, and covered them carefully with bandaids. He worked slowly, and carefully, but his expression showed more than annoyance, it showed anger. It took a while for the Frenchman to realise the anger was not for him, the American was angry at himself.

Spy realised the other didn't expect this to happen. "You didn't expect it to burn me..." Spy stayed as he studied his serious expression. "You never tried that with a prisoner before, _ non_?"

Truthfully, Engineer hadn’t tried so much of what he did to Spy before. Although he played out many of these fantasies in his mind, he never had a pet at his disposal to practice on. “No. I didn’t think much about the heat of the thing.” He sighed, then demanded harshly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Spy met his eyes, alarmed, “You commanded-”

“I know what I said. But I’ve given you enough stress tests for you to know what I expected of you! I wanted you to endure the weight of the thing, and stand on your healing feet!” The frustration he had for himself was leaking into his voice.

The Frenchman’s narrow shoulders sank down, putting a cold knife through the engineer’s anger. The brief satisfaction the man had with accomplishing the command was squashed under these corrections. The rest of Engineer’s anger left him in a heavy breath.  
  
As he calmed, the fact sunk in: the spy would endure this for him, after nothing more than a firm command. And he didn’t expect anything but the satisfaction of knowing he succeeded in following his orders. The spy wasn’t just a man well under his control, he had the making of a truly submissive man; someone who thrived under command.

Although it was obvious to the engineer that burning his palms was not the kind of damage he was interested in causing, his pet didn’t realise it. It made the man wonder if this was not the first time he asked too much of this man. Perhaps there were other times he pushed the spy too far, and he only now realised how much his pet would endure to obey him.

“I’m sorry.” Spy’s soft French accent cut through his thoughts. “I thought you knew what you were doing to me. I thought it was what you expected of me.” His words confirmed Engineer’s thoughts. He couldn’t admit to making a mistake now. But his desire to hurt the man was gone.

“We’re done,” Engineer told him. “You’re in my bed tonight.” He guided the spy to their bed with a gentle grip on his arm to keep him on his feet and off his hands and knees. He pressed the slender man down into the bed before kicking off his boots and sitting down to lean on the head board.

Spy started to adjust, preparing to rest his head on the engineer’s thigh, when he offered, “You want your toy in you?” The Frenchman paused, and looked to the anal plug on the night stand. 

“Is that how you want to apologise to me?” He questioned.

“Do I need to apologise for anything?” Engineer raised his brow and retorted, “I could still put you in your cage for talking after I told you not to.” Engineer refused to be flexible on the matter. Even though he made a mistake, he couldn’t start apologising to his captive. He could only imagine what that would lead to: apologising for complicating their relationship with these deep feelings when it finally came time to execute the spy. Still, the spy was showing his temper. He endured the burning hot lamp without a word, blistering his soft hands, and after the effort of it all he was reprimanded for not alerting Engineer of the problem sooner. He was hurt, but far from sub-space, and ready for a fight. Engineer interrupted it, “Let me take care of you.”

Spy looked up to meet the other’s eyes, and the defiance in his gaze slowly softened…. “_Bien… _ I prefer the plug, _ s'il vous plaît_." Spy finally answered.

Engineer took the plug and carefully lubricated it while his pet watched. Spreading Spy’s legs, he tilted his hips up to press the tip of the toy against his hole, slowly working it in. He considered the toy to be rather modest in size, and he liked to imagine training the spy up to much larger diameters. But right now, he wanted to take care of the spy, and this was a good size for that.

Spy lifted his hips and breathed with his stretching muscles to let the toy open him up and fill him. Spy's cock twitched and came to life, swelling a little bit more with every gentle press forward. There was a brief period of the spreading pressure almost turning to pain, but when he endured it, the feeling of the widest point sliding into his body always felt like enough to make him climax for one glorious second. 

One slender hand drifted down and wrapped around his cock. He pumped himself exactly once before discovering the bandages were quite uncomfortable on his cock and the blisters on his hands were painful to squeeze anything. His bandaged hand fell away and he looked down his body to Engineer. "Please, Touch me."

Engineer shifted forwards, so his hips were pressed against Spy’s ass. He rolled his head back and closed his eyes when the toy moved inside him. Engineer leaned over him, bending close to take his nipple in his mouth. The piercing clicked against his teeth as he bit down carefully. Once Spy had tensed under him, he sucked the skin in between his teeth, intent on leaving a dark hickey. Spy was starting to melt in Engineer's arms, but the mouth around his nipple brought him to attention again. Spy gasped and whined at the touch of teeth. On this sensitive part of his body, this attention always swayed between erotic and painful. His cock throbbed from the attention and muscles coiled tightly around his plug, but he also warned, "Be gentle!" As he twisted to get away.

Engineer let him escape from his mouth but only once there was a purplish red mark around his nipple. He fastened his teeth at Spy’s neck now, kissing and sucking and biting as he went. He might give Spy what he wanted, but he’d do it on his terms.

If Engineer asked Spy, the Frenchman would insist, with some expressions of his mother tongue, that this attention was too much, and he didn't want it at all. But he couldn't deny how this attention fed his brain like an intoxicating drug. Spy was fully in subspace when Engineer's teeth touched his neck, grazing a deep, old brand scarring his skin.

Spy's short nails grazed Engineer's back through his clothing as he grabbed at the man in some attempt to hold on and ride through the sensations. He purred in English without realising it, "This is almost enough to make me cum." It was a fantastic form of foreplay already. It was sensual and exciting, and even the painful bites had a purpose of fogging his mind with euphoria. He couldn't resist fantasizing the idea of finishing off while those straight white teeth bruised his flesh.

“Good,” Engineer’s voice was a low rumble next to Spy’s ear. Now that Spy was a bit more pliant, he slid his hand over his erection, letting his fingers explore the smooth, hot skin. He didn’t stop biting. The marks moved down from Spy’s neck, skipping over the leather collar, to his shoulder and below his collarbone. With the gunslinger, he pinned one of Spy’s wrists to the bed.

Spy shivered under the hot breath in his ear. Engineer probably did not mean it as praise, but he allowed himself to consider it that way, and he swelled with a little bit of pride. Spy's head fell back to the bed completely when a strong hand closed around his cock. He still tensed under Engineer's bites, but it was only a reflex. He didn't try to wriggle away as long as that hand was making contact to his neglected cock. Spy even let the gunslinger pin his wrist down with almost no resistance. The balance of pleasure and pain, trading off so easily under Engineer's expertise, let Spy slip away into bliss. 

"Do whatever you wish to me." The Spy purred, "Just don't stop this." His body arched and rolled, letting him press up into the teeth tormenting his flesh, the hand teasing his cock, and down into the firm groin massaging his plug deeper.

Engineer kept it up as Spy begged him to. That sort of tone suited their relationship better. Spy should be asking, not demanding or expecting anything. Anywhere he could get his teeth into Spy’s skin, he left hickeys, bruises and marks from his teeth. His hand kept a slow pace, sure that Spy could get off on that, or that he’d beg him for more. Either option was desirable to him, honestly. 

Spy lost track of all the places Engineer's teeth marked him. The individual marks were beginning to link together like a collar made from hickeys, bruised into his skin. The hand on his cock was very nearly enough to bring him to completion. It was slow and sensual but so firm in the way that everything about the Texan was firm. 

Spy let the pace take him right to the edge and he let Engineer's hand keep him there for a short while to just appreciate the sensation of the biting, and the plug inside of him, and the strokes that were so close to pushing him over the edge. 

Spy groaned, "_Plus vite_! Faster, please." He opened his eyes to watch Engineer's face, and showed him how much he melted into sub space from his expression only. "Just a little bit faster. I'm so close."

“That’s it,” he murmured. “You cum for me.” Spy looked so gorgeous like this; his body marked as Engineer’s property with bruises and that new barbell in his nipple. His lips were parted like his thighs, his pupils wide. Everything about him told Engineer he was in subspace. Engineer couldn’t resist putting his mouth over the new barbell, the wrench shaped one. He teased it with his tongue, gently, though he knew it would hurt.

Spy's hips rolled up, wanting to squirm and thrust, but not risking to lose the hand on his cock. The deep voice in his ear pushed him over the edge, and his hips bucked hard in response to the mouth closing around his nipple, and he ejaculated hard into the hand, spraying himself with ribbons of seed.

“There,” he chuckled, after releasing Spy’s nipple. “You did good.” He released Spy’s wrist. He leaned back slightly to tease the anal toy as Spy came down from his orgasm. Spy reached out for Engineer as soon as he wasn’t held down, desperate for something to hold onto still. Especially as he toyed with the plug inside of him.

The Frenchman squirmed on the plug, grinning unrestrained with pleasure, but also fighting Engineer, "_Oh là là, non, mon grand. Je ne peux plus_\- that's too much pleasure!" He was a rare man for how often he could follow an ejaculation with a second or third almost immediately. But, when he wasn't ready to spill again, the continued stimulation was like a torture of raw pleasure. 

“You really done?” he laughed softly. “It’s hard to tell with you.” He rolled the flared end of the plug, sending the marble inside spinning, then let go. “How’re you gonna repay me?”

Spy hummed as the toy almost vibrated inside of him, loving and hating the sensation all at once. Spy looked up at Engineer curiously, hearing the question. He was fully spent and his mind was foggy and wanted to soak in this sensation. But he also had pride in being known as an excellent lover. Of course, Engineer probably would not believe it after how often he reduced the French lover to a useless puddle. He lifted himself onto his elbows and suggested, "When I'm done resting, I'll ride your cock."

“I’m not sure I wanna wait,” Engineer said with a wicked grin. “I might have another idea on how you can please me.” He rolled, digging through the drawer next to the bed and coming back with a circular metal ring attached to a leather strap that fastened in the back. “I bet a worldly man like you knows what this is, hm?”

Spy considered it. It was certainly too large to be a cock ring. But it couldn't possibly hold a thick dildo either, if the strap would never reach around his hips. He only needed to contemplate in silence for a moment longer before realising, "It is a gag." He was sure he was correct but he wasn't happy about it.

“Mhm,” Engineer affirmed. He hooked his thumb over Spy’s teeth and forced his lower jaw open. He pressed the gag into his mouth, keeping it spread wide around the metal ring.

Spy let Engineer fit him for the gag. If he chose to fight, it probably would be a rather short fight. He was still floating through a wonderful high or endorphins from his very satisfying orgasm, despite his burned hands. Spy's mouth was open wide in a very vulnerable way. He was very aware of his tongue, and didn't know what to do with himself. He certainly would not make a fool of himself and try to speak. Instead, he raised his hand as though to politely cover a yawn, and his fingertips curiously explored the edge of the ring.

Engineer nudged him off the bed and lowered him to a kneeling position. He stood in front of his kneeling captive, stroking himself. His cock was almost fully hard from teasing Spy to climax. Engineer felt such a rush of power looking down at Spy, seeing his red and purple necklace and that forcibly opened mouth. It started his heart racing. He stroked his hand and gunslinger over Spy’s head, just affectionately at first, then slowly guided him forwards to take the head of his cock on his tongue.

Spy knelt eye-level with the cock and watched it grow under the attention of some quick strokes. He knew the size and shape of that cock, intimately. He held it in his mouth while he was kneeling and blindfolded. But to be on eye level with the erection was a different experience. Spy glanced up and saw unmistakable arousal as Engineer watched his pet. There was no doubt that this man was a dominant sadist, loving the view of Spy on his knees. 

In a rare display of compliance, Spy played the part, for his captor. He lowered his eyes to the cock and pressed back against the hand guiding his head only as much as the resistance of a following dance partner. He welcomed the cock into his mouth with his tongue to press Engineer's length to the roof of his mouth.

Engineer’s head tipped back slowly and he let out a low groan. Spy’s mouth was welcoming, even though it seemed like he’d have no choice to be anything else, he could feel Spy’s tongue working against the underside of his dick. He made it easy for Spy to start, merely rocking in and out of Spy’s open mouth, giving him space and time to breathe. He never thrust terribly deep, being cautious of the back of his captive’s throat. 

Even overwhelmed by pleasure, Engineer found it better to watch it happening; to watch Spy’s eyes flicker up to his face, to watch his cock press into his mouth. “That’s it,” he crooned, before the gunslinger added more weight to the back of Spy’s head and he forced himself deeper. 

Spy's hands were unbound, and he used them to balance himself, ensuring more control over the penetration. But the blisters on his palms, although cleaned and bandaged, did not tolerate the pressure at all. He removed his hands from Engineer's legs as if the man burned him again. Thin, bandaged hands fell to his sides, giving full control to the gunslinger on his head. 

Spy swallowed around the head of the cock as it entered his throat with an expert technique for suppressing his reflex. Engineer's was pumping in slowly and almost gently, which was considerate, except when Spy was waiting for the cock head to move and let him breathe. Spy was squirming around the cock in his mouth by the time it started to withdraw. But he only needed a few short breaths before he returned to welcoming the appendage with his tongue.

Engineer’s thrusts sped up. Still, as much as he wanted to let go of his carefully kept control and just fuck Spy’s mouth, he didn’t. He still gave him time to suck in quick gasps of air. He began to test Spy’s limits, but when the man seemed to struggle more, hands lifting but not touching him, he eased back again. He wanted Spy to enjoy this, even if it wasn’t strictly for Spy’s pleasure. Spy had worked hard today and gotten hurt by Engineer’s carelessness. He could at least fuck him nicely.

Every time Engineer challenged him, a rush of excitement and fear coursed through him. Spy knew exactly how vulnerable he was and he knew exactly what Engineer could do with the leverage of his position. Every time the Gunslinger held him on the cock, his heart beat faster until he was given space again. The Texan never filled his mouth and throat for too long. 

For reasons Spy couldn't articulate yet, he was loving it. He was flirting with danger, literally sucking the cock of a vicious mercenary, and his trust was completely in Engineer's hand. As Engineer's cock sheathed fully in Spy's mouth, he hummed around the base of it with delight, to his own surprise. His eyes flashed up to Engineer to see if he noticed, somehow embarrassed as if he admitted to a secret.

Engineer didn’t hear the hum, but he felt it vibrate through his cock. He groaned. Spy’s face was flushed, though surely part of that was from the breath control they were playing with. “Good boy,” he murmured, his voice low. “You’re just where you belong, ain’t you? On your knees, in front of me.” He was reaching his limit just watching Spy take him, both helpless and seeming to enjoy every thrust. He pressed in deeper, for longer, forcing himself in further.

Spy equally loved the praise and was tormented by it. He couldn't tell himself it wasn't true. He couldn't deny that he belonged wherever Engineer put him, and however the man wanted him. Whatever Spy's purpose was before he came here was becoming a distant memory as the cock in his throat took all of his attention. 

The cock head lingering in the back of his throat forced him to swallow back his reflex repeatedly, but he couldn't stop the wet tear drops coming to his eyes as his throat strained. Unsure why the cock was lingering longer, Spy tried giving Engineer an answer. He nodded as much as he could with a cock filling his mouth and throat, and hummed and affirmative response.

His cock buried deep in Spy’s throat, Engineer spilled his seed, his fingers tightening in Spy’s hair. The gunslinger was too careful to tighten. The last hum, that desperately affirmative answer was what pushed him over the edge. Spy agreed with him. Spy knew where he belonged, who he belonged to. Once the last of his cum had been forced down Spy’s throat, he pulled back, sitting on the bed. He kept his hands on Spy.

Spy choked and sputtered at first as his throat filled with semen, but he quickly focused on swallowing. For the lack of warning he had, he successfully swallowed an impressive amount. But what he didn't swallow rolled down his tongue, filling his mouth with the taste of the Engineer in a way that was impossible to escape. Or at least, impossible to escape so long as the ring gag stopped him from closing his mouth and swallowing back the taste. 

The Engineer was relaxing and catching his breath and the Spy was eager to join him. The slender man moved forward on his knees to fit easily between his knees. He rested the backs of his hands on Engineer's knees and moved his head in an attempt to wake up the hands and get what he wanted.

Engineer chuckled, stroking Spy’s hair and ignoring the obvious plea for the gag to come off. He bent and kissed the top of Spy’s head. Leaning over, he pulled out a cigarette and lighter from their places on the bedside table. He lit the cigarette and took a minute to enjoy it, watching a bit of his cum dribble off Spy’s tongue as he was unable to swallow it easily. Spy let his eyes shut, almost certain that the taste of Engineer's cum sunk so deeply into his taste buds that he could never forget it now. 

He waited, patiently, between his captor's knees, until, with a smirk, Engineer passed the cigarette to Spy. Then he knew he was being taunted. Years ago, Spy might bitterly respond by taking the cigarette and putting it out on that soft, pink, unscarred skin on the inside of Engineer’s thigh. But today, the idea didn't even occur to him. The most protest he could manage was to furrow his brow in a scowl and wave the cigarette away with an insisting grunt.

Engineer just laughed, taking the cigarette back between his own lips. He settled himself on the other side of the bed, patting the space next to him for Spy to join him. He was kind of liking the struggle Spy was having, getting sounds out.

Spy's shoulders sank as Engineer moved away and left him with the gag. He felt the metal buckle pressing on the back of his head and he could probably unfasten it, even with his burned tender fingers, but Spy knew that when Engineer fastened something to him, it wasn’t for him to release himself from it. The lithe man joined is broad partner in bed. His long limbs stretched out and touched his partner. When Engineer's hand lifted to touch him, he pressed his head into the palm and let the petting gesture go to the buckle behind his head.

Engineer laughed softly. “Is that your way of asking me to take off the gag?” he teased, watching as the last of his semen dripped off Spy’s lips. He felt so good, so powerful now, with Spy still submitting to him, still obeying him. He could have Spy like this, enjoying him and dominating him without hurting him at all. He toyed with the new barbell through Spy’s nipple, wanting to hear him moan through the gag.

Spy gasped sharply as his finger brushed his nipple. Then, as the firm digit pressed the skin and massaged the metal bar piercing him, he let out a pathetic whimper that ended in a moan. There was nothing that Spy could do to muffle any sound Engineer pulled from him.

“You were good for me today,” Engineer praised him. His fingertip continued to toy with the man, savouring the moment and drawing it out before finally saying, “I’m sorry I hurt you. It ain’t what I wanted.” He reached up and undid the gag, letting Spy’s jaw close. 

Spy pushed the ring out of his mouth and used his hand to gently massage his jaw shut. He wiped away a wet streak of semen that dribbled down his chin and looked to Engineer’s face. He didn’t expect an apology at this point, but it made him suddenly feel light to hear it. He asked, “What did you want from me?”

“Your obedience.” Engineer admitted.

“_Bien sur!_” Spy said. “Of course, it’s yours.” There was no hesitation as he promised himself to the other and gently laid down in the space between Engineer’s torso and his arm. He put his head on his shoulder and looked up at his face. 

Spy forgot about the cigarette in Engineer's lips entirely. His own habit anxious need for a cigarette to play with between his lips was unnecessary. The nagging anxiousness was put to rest at some point under Engineer's strong hands and soft, calm, voice.


	23. Hold My Beer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy can imagine himself staying with his former enemy, the Engineer, in this strange, dark, and dangerous relationship they built together. But Engineer can't lose sight of his objective. He won't make it easy for the Spy to romanticize their situation, it's the only way he can stop himself from doing the same.

_ The younger man hit the mat and rolled onto his side with a fatigued groan. He felt footsteps approaching him rather than hearing them and put out a hand, “Arrêtez!” He demanded, “Enough, I’ve had enough!” He released the short dagger in his hand to prove he was done. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ His mentor was still holding his own dagger, no longer poised to attack but not coming within arm’s reach of his student. “Get up.” _

_ The student was skilled enough to dodge the sharp dagger in his mentor’s hand. The tip of the blade caught his shirt and trousers, leaving little slashes and holes. He was feeling rather confident with his success when he lunged forward for an attack, and left himself open to a swift kick to the head. He touched his temple. His fingertips came away wet. “Non. I’ve had enough.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The older spy was so quiet, the younger man needed to open his eyes to understand his response. His mentor was leaving, his dagger sheathed, the training session complete. “We’re done. Don’t come back until you’re serious about your training.” _

_ Immediately the younger man was on his feet, responding the words like an electric shock. “Wait!” His head was pounding and he felt a warm drop from the cut disappearing into his hairline. But it was nothing compared to the horrible hollow feeling of his mentor’s disappointment. “I’m ready! I’m serious!” He pleaded, hurrying after him. _

_ The Classic Spy continued to the door. He left, and shut it behind him. He was not a patient man, or a forgiving one. He expected a lot, possibly too much. But his protégé refused to give in, sure that if he only tried harder he could earn the approval of his mentor. _

  
  


*

  
  


Engineer was aware of Spy shifting in bed beside him, but he wasn’t shifting away, or being sneaky, so he didn’t give it any attention. He let his heavy eyelids keep him on the edge of sleep, when he heard Spy shift again, and roll, and move. He opened an eye and looked over to see the man not quite sleeping, but face down, squeezing his arms around a pillow and pushing his hips down into the bed.

“What’s the matter with you?” Engineer asked, rolling over to look at him.

“_C’est rien_.” he muttered into the pillow. His tone had more meaning than his foreign words.

Engineer grabbed the sheets and pulled them down, baring the man’s naked body. The startled spy flipped over, and his hard red cock bobbed over his stomach. He immediately explained, “I woke up with a hard-on! Mon Dieu, it is no cause for alarm!” He looked down his own body, where Engineer was staring and said, “I was in the middle of willing it to go away.”

Engineer grinned, “Oh? Not in the mood?” he stroked his palm along the man’s thigh then suggested, “Stroke it.”

Spy hesitated, but obediently reached down to stroke it. His palms were still red from the burning hot lamp. He barely touched himself, doing the bare minimum that was asked of him before releasing and admitting, “My hand hurts too much for that.”

“Aw, that’s a shame.” he squeezed his lean thigh. “You weren’t gonna ask me?”

Spy looked up, wondering if it was a test or a joke. “Would you?”

“You’re gonna have to ask a lot nicer than that.” Engineer insisted.

The Frenchman’s cock twitched, “_Oui_, of course.” After struggling, frustrated with his own cock all morning, the promise of release was like a fantasy. “Engineer, I need you. Please, take care of me. Touch me, sir!”

Engineer couldn’t help his grin at Spy’s begging. He leaned back and reached for the night stand to retrieve a blindfold from the drawer. Spy bowed his head, understanding Engineer’s intention but not knowing why. Nonetheless, the blindfold went on, wrapped over his eyes without explanation. Once Spy had been blinded, Engineer lowered himself in front of him and slowly took his cock in his mouth.

The only warning he had of Engineer's intentions then was a warm breath on his cock before a mouth wrapped around it. He sucked in a deep breath and groaned as he melted back. Vulgar words and desires coursed through his mind. Faster, harder, deeper, more! This was an incredible sensation he wanted since Engineer first experimented with this while he introduced Spy to the fucking machine. Some hard lessons were learned that day and rather than beg for more, Spy praised, "_Merci. Merci, oui__!_"

Slowly, Engineer did begin to press deeper, to move faster. Spy’s praises were just what he wanted to hear. He held Spy tightly by the hips, keeping him still and steady.

Spy's cock twitched on Engineer's tongue and he panted. His hips reflexively attempted to pump up into his partner's mouth, but he was stopped by the firm hold. But he could not complain. The treatment was better than he expected and he didn't want to do anything to ruin the moment. His praise slowly became more lazy until he was only gasping and moaning. But he did courteously alert his partner as he started to near his climax, "I'm almost finished." He whimpered, then begged when he couldn't resist, "Please don't stop. Please finish me off. I need this so badly. _ Mon Dieu_, I need you!"

It hadn’t taken too many lessons for Spy to go from demands to pleas and it pleased Engineer to hear it. He would finish him off. Maybe it was for Spy, maybe it was for himself, letting himself indulge in fantasies that were long ago locked away from becoming real. He made a soft, affirmative sound around his mouthful, swallowing Spy down just a little deeper.

Spy arched his back and his muscles became taut under the other’s fingertips. When Engineer took the cock a little deeper, it was everything the Spy needed for completion. He ejaculated messily and screamed as he finished.

Engineer's mouth slowed down and Spy's hips bucked again. "Don't stop!" Spy gasped desperately. "Just a little more, I'm not done yet!" His hand searched for Engineer and stroked his head affectionately, although his hands were almost shaking with need.

Engineer had been wondering if Spy would have another few orgasms after the first one. Although the information was only useful to himself, he was hopeful to find out what caused his rapid string of climaxes. He swallowed around him and slid his flesh and blood hand up to toy with his nipple piercing.

The constant stimulation without breaking helped Spy along to his next climax quickly. He spilled himself again the moment Engineer's fingers closed around the metal bar piercing. Spy begged for each climax after that, and although he ejaculated much less every time, barely a drop by the end of it, he was clearly enjoying each one. His nerves were soaked in pleasure and he couldn't complain about the Gunslinger squeezing the cane marks, or the rough fingers teasing his nipples. But when Spy was spent, he was done and struggled to untangle himself from the intensity quickly. He twisted his hips against the grip of the gunslinger and pressed Engineer's shoulders back while gasping, "I'm done! _ Arrêtez_!"

With a soft laugh, Engineer pulled away. He stood, releasing Spy and putting an affectionate hand on his head. “That’s what you get when you’re good,” he murmured. He let Spy sprawl on the bed, until he wasn’t gasping or panting. He made a wonderful vision: naked except for the sturdy collar around his neck and the blindfold over his eyes, covered in a thin layer of sweat, his wet cock becoming soft and his skin becoming pink as he flushed all over with excitement. He pulled Spy up to stand beside the bed, once he’d recovered.

He took the cane from the dresser and after watching him for a moment he tapped his bottom and directed, “Walk.” Spy wanted to remove the blindfold but when he felt the cane he stopped. The game wasn't over yet. He swallowed and carefully went forward.

He made careful steps forward and found himself depending on Engineer's guidance to take him to their destination. Engineer led him this way and that with gentle nudges with the cane, letting Spy get lost and lose his direction until he was fully depending on him. Then he finally guided him to the kitchen. “Alright,” he said, “you can take it off.”

Spy loosened the blindfold carefully, and fumbled a little with the bandages dulling his nerves. He smiled at the view of the kitchen to find the destination so harmless. The Frenchman folded the blindfold on the table neatly and offered, "Are you ready to eat then?"

Engineer nodded. “I think we had a good morning, don’t you?”

Spy grinned and admitted, "_ Oui _, it was... pleasant." Maybe that was too soft of a word. His mind was still swimming from the best series of ejaculations in his life. He couldn't trust himself to count effectively, but he was rather sure that Engineer brought him to finish more times than Spy ever successfully did before making him feel like he climaxed for nearly a minute continuously. "It was incredible." The Frenchman admitted with a wistful sigh.

Spy ran his hands over the counter surface as he decided what to cook. His heart beat a little faster as he asked, "Can this be what our situation is now?" He tried to look distracted and pretend he wasn't hanging on his captor's words. "No more of the basement. No more cruel punishments... I'll be your pet and you will take care of me... I’ll behave myself for you."

Spy knew it was a stretch to suggest it. The Engineer was a sadist and clearly had a different opinion of what was cruelty. Spy's face was growing warm and he turned his back on Engineer to avoid letting his blush seen as he said the word, pet.

“You’d want that? To stay here, with me?” Engineer was completely thrown.

Spy hesitated. He was not searching for an escape from this bunker, but he didn't expect to stay here. Not forever, anyway, despite Engineer's claim that this was his life now. "I’d like it... For as long that I'm here. Until it's time for me to go." Spy stayed simply.

Engineer felt a strange twinge when Spy said he would be going. It was hard to pretend that they could let this continue forever when even Spy knew he wouldn’t stay. He just shook his head and let Spy get their lunch ready.

Spy was disappointed Engineer didn't comment, but was relieved that it didn't result in a disagreement. Spy didn't like the idea of arguing with a sadist holding a cane in his hand. But some strange sense of honour would not let him promise Engineer that he would stay locked up in a little home away from any other human contact forever.

He wanted what Spy offered. He wanted him to stay here and be his pet. Even if Spy came and went as he pleased, so long as he came home to him. He wanted more than they could have together, and Engineer knew that any relationship was impossible. The Texan was a harsh sadist and already knew that no man would willingly submit himself to his torment, and the spy, of course, he was a spy!

Engineer stated, “Don’t let a little tender love and care trick you into thinking I’ve gone soft. We’ll get back to work in the garage and you’ll start thinking twice about your suggestion.” The Texan would make sure of that. This would be a lot easier and a lot less complicated if he made it very clear that their morning together wasn’t going to become standard. Maybe he shouldn’t have indulged himself.

After feeding them both, and cleaning up, Spy offered the blindfold to Engineer again. He stuffed it into his pocket and picked up the cane from the table. He snapped the length of it over the side of Spy’s thigh. “C’mon, we’re going to the garage.”

The Frenchman winced but started walking to the garage only to be met with a hard crack across the backs of his thighs. “I didn’t say to walk.” Engineer corrected. Spy’s breath was shaky as the red stripe darkened his skin, but lowered down without complaint. His hands were tender and it hurt to crawl, but if he was graceful and careful he knew he would not cause further damage.

He took a can of beer from the fridge before he left the kitchen, and after a second of thought, grabbed a saucer too. He had a job in mind for the spy. Spy followed Engineer with his eyes and watched him fetch a drink. He didn't let himself get too far ahead, but he didn't give Engineer a reason to correct him for moving slowly. Before Engineer was close enough to touch him with the cane, he started to crawl again, and lead the path to the garage.

Engineer indicated where he should stop, then instructed him. "Legs out, yes, like that. Up on your arms," he moved Spy so that he looked as though he was about to do a push-up, almost all his weight on his arms. 

Spy let Engineer position him, although he tried to let it be easier on his body. He tried to rest on his elbows and let the stroking cane motivate him to lift up, only a gentle brush over his nipple needed. Spy let his back arch and his pelvis hung low in a dramatic bow. But the stroking cane caused him to lift his stomach up and hold himself in a rigid position. The last correction was for the cane to stroke Spy's cheek, and motivate him to lift up his hanging head. The position required total focus, and balance, and all of Spy's muscles. His weight supported entirely by his arms and stretched legs. His core was flexing tightly to hold the straight line. He lifted Spy's head and held it still, putting both saucer and beer can on it. "Now, don't move," he grinned. Spy breathed deeply and calmly while he assessed the situation.

This was a difficult stress pose, and Engineer felt sure Spy would break it. He sat, close by Spy, so that the beer can was just the right distance away from him. He picked it up, opened it and listened to the satisfying pop hiss before drinking and putting it back on Spy's head.

He turned to the work bench and disconnected his gunslinger. He glanced down at Spy, almost asking himself if he was becoming overly confident again. But the spy didn’t react at all. His whole world was the saucer balancing on his head. He would wait just fine while the other did some routine cleaning and maintenance on this delicate piece of machinery.

"I can't stay like this for hours, sir!" Spy doubted he could even stay like this for minutes.

“It won’t be hours. Just til I’m done with my beer.” He lifted the can and Engineer raised an eyebrow.

The moment the beer bottle was lifted from the saucer, Spy lowered himself to the floor and took several deep breaths to try to spare his muscles and prepare himself again. "Let me rest while you're drinking. _ S'il vous plaît _!" It was dangerous to beg for forgiveness instead of asking for permission first, with a man like Engineer. Spy tried his very best to show his submission and prove that he wasn't being difficult. He pushed himself up again, as soon as Engineer started to set down his drink. Spy made himself available as Engineer's table. "You won't wait on me, I promise. I'll only rest while you drink. Please."

It was a small concession and Spy wasn’t going to win this one anyway. “Alright, that’s fine.” Engineer worked quietly for a bit before taking the beer for another long sip, watching as Spy practically collapsed as he did. 

Spy could not even fully relax on the floor. He rest on his chin with his neck fully stretched to continue to balance the saucer on his head. When he saw Engineer hold out his bottle, Spy pushed up again and became his table. Every time he returned to this position he had less energy, and every second became more of a strain. Spy's shoulders shook, his arms ached, his abdomen was burning, and he was painfully aware of muscles in his core that he didn't realise he had. All of his focus was on holding his head properly to not spill the can onto himself. His hips started to hang down to the floor, but he only needed a reminding slow stroke from the cane to lift himself into position again. Spy nearly wheezed as he did return to his position. "Have a drink, please!" The phrase sounded bizarre to be said with such desperation, but Spy was begging for another break. The longest he could hold the position was one full minute now.

Engineer did lift the bottle, laughing. “Struggling?” he teased. He took a couple sips this time, giving Spy time to flop on the floor limply. It was only twenty seconds or so of rest though, before the can came down again. The can was becoming lighter each time, but he doubted the struggling man noticed.

Spy was whimpering on the floor. His muscles were burning with such intense fatigue that resting them didn't lessen the burden. He was amazed by himself to endure so much already. He knew he must be exceeding Engineer's expectations. Or Spy assumed that until he heard Engineer's taunt. He took a deep breath and held it, knowing that it would make the fatigue worse, but he refused to show his weakness. He pushed himself up to hold the can on his head again, with a new resolve to be strong and endure this position. 

Of course, as it happened every time, Spy's arms started to shake, and the muscles of his core struggled to maintain the rigid position. He tried to count the seconds in his head, to use his mentor's method that any torture is capable of being endured, for 10 seconds. Spy was reduced to desperate whimpering again when counting silently in his mind simply wasn't enough.

In total, Spy managed to surpass a full minute this time, and yet Engineer didn't take the bottle for another drink. "_Je n'en peux plus!_" Spy cried out, feeling as if his body would break. But he refused to say Mercy now.

He had shared Engineer’s bed again. The possibility of being in his cell, for crying mercy was terrible. Spy would accept anything but that. With tears pricking his eyes, Spy begged, "Punish me, please. I cannot do this any longer! Punish me harshly, but relieve me of this torture!"

Engineer took the plate and can off his head. Spy collapsed as soon as the saucer was lifted. His face was on the floor but he couldn't care. Spy’s expression turned to pathetic self-pity. He was too exhausted to move any part of his body. 

Engineer shook the can, showing that it was empty, “Guess I forgot to tell you. Can’s empty, all done.” he chuckled. “But if you want a punishment so bad, I’ll give it to you.” He picked up the gunslinger and attached it to the base on his arm, watching as it came to life again.

Spy stared up wordlessly at Engineer's offer to punish him. He could barely think. He barely wanted to think. When he found his words, he smiled lazily, "I beat your game." If those were the rules, to hold the can until Engineer was done, Spy certainly believed he did. "You cannot punish me for that."

“You did beat it. But I ain’t about to ignore you beggin’ for punishment like that! That’d just be cruel of me,” Engineer chuckled. “C’mere,” he gestured, standing. Spy was slow to move. Just to be on his hands and knees for crawling was exhausting. He put Spy over the closed hood of his little red car, with his ass in the air. “You stay still now.” He walked past the cane leaning on the work table to a long thin box of a few surviving tools from the basement. With a satisfied expression, he brought out a long, flexible, thin cane, more of a switch really.

The Spy's clever blue eyes traveled along the length of the thin whip. Although it looked like the cane Engineer used earlier, it was much thinner. By the way it swayed under Engineer's movements, it looked like it would simply bounce off his skin when he was hit. Spy smiled nervously and put his cheek on the cool surface of his car.

Engineer had to stand pretty close to Spy with the switch to give it enough force, he had to pull it back with his hand and release to let it flick forwards to bite into Spy’s ass.

Spy gasped. The sensation of this was different enough to be unexpected. He compared it, in his thoughts, to the heavier cane. This one might not bruise, but it did sting in a very sharp way. He opened his mouth to count then stalled, “Am I counting these?”

"I'm only giving you twenty of these." He snapped the cane down on him again. "But let's make sure you're thinking too, hmm? I'll ask you some questions. For every one you get right, I'll take off a stroke. Maybe you don't have to suffer any more of them." Engineer chuckled.

Spy swallowed but nodded. he prisoner, or rather, pet, could barely imagine himself lying to Engineer, or refusing to answer something. It was never worth it. But even so, Spy squirmed at the thought of answering honestly and becoming an open book for the man again. It went against everything he used to be. Spy's hips swayed as he slowly shook off the sting of the thin cane. And he nodded, "Of course, sir."

Engineer let the thin cane trace over the bright red mark it had left, touching Spy gently with it. "What was I making with the Australium?" There was no way Spy could know unless his mentor told him, in the rare case that the classic team was equipping every part of their team with these devices for the purpose of invisibility.

Spy considered the strange device with thin metallic arms and tubes that glowed brightly with Australium. It was difficult to think, with the thin cane stroking his ass, reminding him of what more would happen. He did his best to imagine what that device could possibly be. But he could not even start to guess how it could be a weapon. He shook his head and answered honestly, "I don't know."

The cane struck him hard. “Where is the Administrator?” Engineer’s voice was low, almost laughing.

Spy's head snapped up and his hips squirmed as he tried to shake off the pain. The question seemed distant, but as it sunk in, his heart dropped. Spy looked back over his shoulder, "I can't answer this. I swear I would, but I don't know. I simply don't know." He swallowed, "please, ask me something I know, I'll answer anything."

The cane stung across his skin again, instantly leaving a reddish welt where the tip of it hit. “Where is the lost stash of Australium?” 

Spy jumped forward and shook his head. He nearly shouted, "I don't know!" But his tone was desperate. He tried to meet Engineer's eyes and swear to him, "I won't lie to you! It's the truth, I simply don't know!" 

“Oh, I know you ain’t lying.” Engineer chuckled, striking the cane over him again. “Where is Team Vanguard?” he asked.

Spy shook his head, whimpering as Engineer offered another suggestion. He thought as hard as he could, and considered anything he knew about the team before pathetically admitting, "I don't know." Spy was on his elbows on the hood of his car to rest his head in his palms. His eyes were becoming moist with tears.

Another slap from the cane. Each blow added a new welt. “How many nights have you spent in your cell?” Best to get off TFI for a moment, he thought.

Spy was desperate to meet Engineer's demands. He snuck a hand behind himself, trying to shield his welted arse, "I know this! Wait, _ s'il vous plaît _!" Hé muttered quietly as he desperately tried to count what he could remember. He never considered to count the days in the cell once they were over.

"_Un... Deux... Cinq... Six... Nuef? Non, huit_." Hé started to whimper, knowing he was taking too long. He pulled his hand in front of himself before Engineer removed it, and answered, "Thirteen."

“Wrong.” Engineer’s single word was punctuated by the crack of the cane. They went over more and more questions. Spy wanted so desperately to answer him that he took long periods of silence to think, to try to remember if he knew anything about it. Finally Engineer got to the questions he really wanted answers to. “Do you know where the Classic Team is?”

Desperate as ever, Spy answered as much as he could, "Australia! In the Northern territory, by the ocean!" Spy leaned his hips forward in an attempt to hide from the next stroke. His ass was red, and Engineer put all of his attention on that area. Nothing went higher than the tail bone or below the sit spot. Spy squirmed and cursed as he often did, and he let himself cry openly, only to manage the pain.

The cane didn’t come down, even though Engineer had known some of that already. “Last one,” he said softly, tapping Spy’s ass very gently with the cane. “What’s your name?”

It didn't matter how distracted the Spy was by the cane or the pain. He answered quickly, and fully, "_ René Bourdeaux! _" Hé didn't flinch away. He knew he gave a full and honest answer, but he did collapse down to the car. Spy cautiously looked back to Engineer to be sure he was done. His eyes were pink and wet tracks of tears stained his cheeks. He let himself cry more freely now when pain built up. He understood now that there was no use in holding it back to attempt to look more brave or strong.

Engineer put the cane down and went to Spy. He wrapped an arm around his chest, stroking his hands over the new welts tenderly. “I gotcha,” he murmured, “you did real good for me.” He sat on the hood of the car and pulled Spy up against his chest. 

The punishment was over but Spy was still deep in the moment and continued to promise, "I didn't know those answers. There was no way I could know. _ Oh, mon Dieu_, I think I know everything sometimes, and yet," he shook his head then rest his cheek on Engineer's shoulder. Spy was slowly calming down. His head was foggy and he still could not think clearly enough to consider how much he told Engineer. If he betrayed any important secrets of his own or someone else's. He could only think of the stinging red marks on his arse that symbolised where he failed Engineer. Spy offered then, "Should I know all of those questions? Should I... find out?" 

“No, pet,” Engineer assured him, petting him as he relaxed. Spy was grateful to melt into the stronger man's arms. His mind was overflowing and so clouded he barely heard the man’s voice, or that he had called him ‘pet’.

“Bet you’re thinking twice about your suggestion now.” Engineer said as he sat on the hood of the car to hold the shuddering man, scooping him up into his arms so he could rest his wet cheek on a dry shoulder and not hurt his tender backside by sitting himself down.

Spy wiped away the wet tracks on his cheeks gracefully, and shook his head. “Non, I know how you are. The pain doesn’t scare me away.”

The submissive man was opening up, and speaking honestly and frankly, as he always did when he was pushed to his limit. He was soft and malleable, and didn’t struggle against being held. He would be easy to steer in the conversation, but Engineer found himself wanting to talk about this. No matter if it was useless to anyone but him.

“You’re not scared of pain?” Engineer questioned.

“Not scared enough.” He admitted. After a stretch of silence he was compelled to keep talking to fill the space, “My mentor told me that when Conaghers aren’t engineering, they’re breaking spies. I’m scared that if I let you, you’ll break me down into something else entirely, that I won’t even recognise.”

Engineer raised a brow, “I’d say you’re pretty far from the man you used to be.” Tall and slender, sure. But the soft muscles that built his shoulders and chest were long gone, with the mask and secret weapons. His thin lips hadn’t pinched the end of a cigarette in ages. Even the soft wheat coloured hair he came here with was turned back to its natural salt and pepper tones.  
  
“ _ Non, non, _ this is different. This feels like…” He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, “Like being someone I haven’t been able to be for a long time.” When he was quiet again, Engineer realised he was resting his eyes. He carried the spy to the bedroom, and placed him down in the bed.

Even if Spy earned himself a punishment, he did technically succeed in holding his position until Engineer was done with his drink. He slid in beside him and watched Spy sleep for a time, stroking his thumb over the black and silver hair that was slowly growing out. He didn't want this to end. He didn't want to give Spy up. This was everything he had been trained not to do. He wasn't supposed to get attached, or involved, or even see spies as real people. He'd fallen into all three of those traps here. 

He wasn’t sure how he could bring himself to execute Spy now. Especially now that he knew his name. _ René Bourdeaux. _

He kept having the urge to call Spy 'pet'. He'd already slipped up once, but Spy hadn't seemed to notice. And he also had the terrible urge to use his name, or to at least say it aloud. He hadn't so far. He resisted. Spy wasn't his, as the BLU Spy had reminded him. He wasn't a pet, he was a captive. He was a Spy. That was all he was.


	24. Forty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy and Engineer negotiate the severity of a caning. Neither man gets what he's bargaining for.

_ The classic spy stood in a cold and musty interrogation room with his apprentice and his own team’s pyro. The apprentice spy was fastened securely to a chair with thick leather straps securing his ankles, thighs, wrists, chest, and even neck. His clever fingers twisted and wriggled the buckles he could reach, making very slow progress to freedom. _

_ The classic spy rested a knuckle on his chin as he studied the scene thoughtfully. His eyes moved to every movement of the other two and read the layers of meaning and undertones of intention. He was judging, but saying nothing. _

_ The classic pyro was focused on her table of materials, and humming a playful tune. The young spy could almost recognise the song by Sophie Tucker. He never considered “Red Hot Mama” to be so threatening. Plump little fingers danced over the lid of a glass jar and removed a ball of cotton. Her victim couldn’t guess what she was planning. But he knew he wouldn’t like it. _

_ “Someone broke a glass jar, like this one, on my head,” the young man lied. _

_ The classic pyro looked at the glass jar on her table again. The apprentice could feel her interest returning to it and he privately begged her to lift it up. She picked up the jar and turned around, “A jar like this?” she studied the weight in her palm and asked, “How did you like that?” _

_ “O, pas de tout! I hoped it would render me unconscious. But rather, it shattered and hurt, a lot.” The Frenchman replied transparently, although the experience was all a lie. _

_ The pyro emptied the cotton balls onto her table and stepped away, considering the jar with more fondness now. She was weighing her choices, whether or not a little destructive indulgence was worth the loss of some organising jars. She was moving closer to her victim and finally looked up at him to devilishly grin and then smash the jar atop the spy’s head. _

_ The pain was dizzying, and spy reacted without holding back. When his eyes focused again, he muttered, “It’s as terrible as I remember.” But it was certainly not nearly as bad as painful burns hissing through his flesh. _

_ Beatrice returned to her desk and was moving things around to find anything else with the same satisfying ability to shatter. She opened a drawer of empty bottles for Molotov cocktails and tested them by throwing one at the spy. She was forceful enough to make it break on his chest. Satisfied, she returned to the drawer for more. _

_ Throughout it, the classic spy watched with a fond and clever smirk. His apprentice offered himself up for a brutish form of mistreatment, but avoided the torturous lick of fire. He kept his tormentor fully occupied, and all the while he worked himself free of the straps on his wrists. _

_ Baiting a sadist into violence was a dangerous art, but it was a classic ‘briar patch’ ruse to manipulate a situation and suffer in the most preferred way possible. _

  
  


*

  
  


The Engineer's bedroom on his new temporary base was bright with morning light when Spy coaxed him awake by stroking a hand up over his broad chest. Spy was tucked comfortably under Engineer's arm, close to his body. His unmasked cheek rested on his captor's muscular shoulder as he watched his face. 

Engineer and Spy were not exclusively prison guard and prisoner any more. There were times when Engineer wanted Spy to hate what was happening, and enjoyed watching him cry out and break down. But there were other times when they were intimate. Violent, of course, but intimate. Engineer’s affection overflowed and made bruises on Spy’s flesh. If Spy could learn to love what they did together, they might find a word for this relationship they had.

The Frenchman let the man wake up and gather his senses and fully blink the sleep away from his eyes before he asked, "Is it possible for me to enjoy what you do to me, as much as you enjoy it?"

Engineer made a soft sound as he woke, then sighed slowly. He was getting used to waking up with Spy. “You already love a lot of it, don’t you,” Engineer remarked, his voice still soft from sleep. Spy frowned when Engineer started to lay it out frankly. “You feel proud when you’re looking over your licks, and you’re a glutton for any rewards I give. What do you want me to change?” The only way he could think of doing that was to let Spy choose to stay here by himself. But Engineer knew he couldn’t allow that.

Spy’s stroking hand clawed down the man's chest. His nails were no longer chewed down to the blood, and the length made long red tracks on his skin. "_Oui_, I love it when we fuck. I love it when you praise and reward me." He confirmed. "I hate it when you command me." He lied, stating it because he felt it should be true.

Spy was quiet as he went through an inner battle between a conscious part of himself and a primal need. “_Pardonnez moi._” he corrected himself, “... when you command me to do something I truly don't want to obey." 

Engineer nearly accused his pet of lying to him, but Spy corrected himself quick enough. Spy spent a lot of time rehearsing what he wanted to say before he started to wake up his partner. And yet, he was already unbalanced. Engineer was never predictable.  
  
“But the pain...” The Spy trailed off, “What is it about my pain that brings you so much pleasure.” 

Engineer thought about it and put a hand on Spy’s head, very aware of how closely he was being watched. Spy was hanging on every word. The rogue was hopeful. He bargained in dire situations before and satisfied the sadistic nature of enemies, taking damage that was easier for him to burden.

“I’m not sure it matters _ how _ I hurt you,” he admitted, slowly, as he uncomfortably came face to face with the mysteries inside himself that pushed him towards these needs, “As much as it matters that I’m hurting you, and you’re struggling. I like it best when you cry.”  
  
This was the worst possible answer for Spy. There was no easy route, or gentle compromise when his captor just wanted to see him broken and crying. He frowned as he tried to puzzle through this problem. 

“I like it when you’re hard too…” Engineer continued. It was even better if he could have both from his pet.

Spy grinned and lifted up, “I believe we found common ground, _ monsieur_. Let’s do that today.”

The Texan chuckled, “What, get you hard, boy?” The Frenchman nodded, letting his hand slide down the other’s broad chest. He shook his head, “Nope, too easy.”

“So challenge me.” The Frenchman purred, lowering down to whisper into his ear.  
  
The American let his pet paw at him and kiss his temple, enjoying the sweetness and letting his pet think he softened him. “Get the cane.” The Spy froze and studied his calm, pleased expression. He surely didn’t want to fetch the cane, but Engineer was pleased that he climbed out from under the warm sheets and went to the dresser to collect the thin flexible cane that was never returned to its hook in the basement. “You love it when you succeed at something, when I’m really challenging you. I think it’s your own prideful streak, that you gotta take a tough challenge and show me you can do it.”  
  
Spy was still nervous if the other intended to challenge him, but he was at least relieved he wasn’t being punished. Spy offered the handle of the cane to Engineer. "Sir?"

“Good boy. Now pick a number.” Engineer settled in and started to smile and enjoy the show. Spy’s distress was very obvious on his face. He was struggling with himself, certainly knowing that he was choosing how many strokes he would take from the cane. He shivered as the thin cane waved and bowed in Engineer’s hands as he tested the flexibility of it.

"Three." Spy offered a pathetically low number. It wasn't enough to do a warm up, much less let him experience the tool.

“If I do three, we’ll be using a different tool,” Engineer chuckled darkly, starting to get up.

“_Non, non, _ that is not necessary.” He took a breath to offer a new number, but he was afraid to guess too low or too high. He looked to the other pleadingly, “What number do you have in mind?”

“Forty,” he said, still full of amusement. He had more in mind than what they discussed so far.

Spy was visibly shaken by the suggestion. He looked at Engineer with a flash of fear. He knew how much each stroke could sting, and to endure that forty times was a lot, considering that he wasn't even being punished. Spy swayed from one foot to the other and considered his options. Offering something different then, "And what number would you propose, if I choose your hand on my arse?"

Engineer felt an unexpected swell of excitement and pride as he watched his pet weigh his options. This was the exact struggle he loved to see, as this man decided whether to endure worse pain, or worse humiliation. A spanking with his hand couldn’t compare to the severity of the cane at all, but Spy would struggle so much more and cry much easier.

“This hand?” he smiled, raising the flesh and blood hand. The Gunslinger would, of course, be a different number. “Fifty.” Spy knew he took more than fifty spanks from Engineer's hard broad hand in a single setting before. But they both knew he couldn't take it with dignity. If Engineer put him over his knee, he would be squirming nervously from the beginning, and definitely crying by the end of it. 

The numbers were near enough to challenge Spy and make it a difficult decision. He might be crying after forty strokes of the cane also.

Spy took a very deep breath and closed his eyes as if to make peace with his answer as he stated it. "The cane. _ S'il vous plaît_." He was too proud to offer himself up for a spanking.

Engineer ran his hand over the length of the cane. “I like your choice,” he grinned. Spy felt warmth growing under his skin as the Engineer tested the flexibility of his weapon. “You’re gonna be counting to forty all day. Every time you get hit, I expect to hear a number. Got it?” He stood. He was still shorter than Spy but it never made it difficult for him to intimidate others.

Comprehension moved over Spy’s face, possibly even relief. He understood the challenge, to endure forty strokes during the course of the day, counting as they happened, whenever that happened. “_Je comprends_.” He nodded and answered breathlessly. "You don't mind if I count in French?"

“That’s fine, but you will translate on demand,” he shrugged. He would be counting too, and if Spy got a number wrong he intended to start over. Engineer got dressed, heading out for breakfast.

Spy stood in place beside the bed, intending to follow but unsure what was expected of him. He took a step and then hesitated and he carefully lowered himself to his hands and knees. He came out of the bedroom and joined Engineer in the kitchen on his hands and knees.

Though Engineer hadn’t specified, he was proud that Spy had chosen to crawl. “Good,” he praised. “You making breakfast?” he asked, though it wasn’t truly a question.

Spy answered gladly, "_Oui_." And crawled past Engineer. Although it was a service to his keeper, it was a privilege to the Frenchman and he worked hard in the kitchen to keep this privilege.

Spy's menu was restricted a little more every day, as he cooked through more of the ingredients in the refrigerator. It was a reminder of Spy's original belief that this was a limited arrangement. Engineer surely planned to be gone when the food ran out, and Spy knew he was not leaving this place.

With whatever ingredients he had, Spy put together an acceptable breakfast (certainly much better than hot oats), and presented the plates on the table as he commented, "I wouldn't mind if you brought some fresh groceries in."

Engineer nodded, but he couldn’t help frowning. He had been here longer than he’d intended already. It was sometimes so easy to forget about the outside world, right up until these little reminders of how long they had been here.

“I’ll get some groceries.” Engineer assured, despite himself. He knew Spy was always sensing and feeling the confines of his space, of their time together. It was important not to let him know that an end was coming soon.

Engineer watched Spy lower himself to the floor to eat his own breakfast. He assured himself, he could get more from this man still. He knew Spy’s watch, commonly used as a cloaking device, was also a communication device. He dissected it and knew the communication range could possibly reach his mentor in Australia. If Engineer could plan, with confidence, to trick Spy into calling his own mentor, then their time together wasn’t over yet. It was worth keeping Spy for a few more days.

“Ready for work?” Engineer patted his head again. He headed into the garage at a brisk place. A plan was unfolding in his mind, to use the Spy’s watch against him. It would involve all of his skills, both as an engineer and a spy breaker. Spy currently was moving too slowly for his plans and he gave Spy’s ass a solid smack with the cane. “Faster.”

Spy grunted with displeasure. As he expected, there was no way to anticipate when it was coming, and in that way, even the very first stroke was startling and got a verbal response. "_Un,_" Spy named the first stroke as he crawled more quickly, despite wanting to stop to reach back and soothe the stripe with his fingertips.

Engineer went to his work bench and pointed to Spy’s place at his feet. The cane rested against the table, close to Spy. Spy crawled under the table, bowing his head down to fit. It was a stressful position on his neck but it didn't need to be. He rested his naked cheek on the Engineer's knee.

Engineer rested his hand on Spy’s head as he visually dissected the watch, picking up where he left off.

As the Engineer started to work, things seemed more normal. He knew Engineer liked to work in total silence. The warm hand resting on top of his head was comforting also. It was a gentle and wordless form of praise for a job as simple as sitting quietly at Engineer's feet. Even the cane didn't seem threatening. It was immediately on hand, and Spy knew he could expect 39 additional strokes. But the moment now seemed simply peaceful. Spy couldn't help asking, casually, as if truly only making conversation. "What is it that you're building today?"

Engineer smirked and answered, “It’s something for you, when we go to town for groceries.”

Spy almost didn’t understand, simply because he couldn’t believe it. He left Engineer's knee to crawl partially out from under the table. "You're taking me out? I'm going out, to a market place, or a grocer or- _ ne m'importe pas! _ I'm leaving this place?" 

“Just to town, for groceries. And there will be plenty of restrictions.” Engineer warned. He wondered how Spy would react, and caught himself fantasizing that his pet would be grateful for the invitation but prefer to stay in the secure space of his kennel. It ached a little to see so much hope in his face.

The Engineer snapped his fingers as he pointed to Spy’s place under the table, and the lean man followed the unspoken command without complaint, agreeing as he went, “Of course, restrictions. This is understandable.” He took Engineer’s pointing hand, under the desk and kissed his knuckles, “_Merci, monsieur. Merci._”  
  
Engineer’s heart squeezed unexpectedly. The genuine praise was sweet, and he would have liked to have earned it. Spy undoubtedly thought he was leaving this place and going free. He didn’t know what to say so he took the cane from its resting place and touched it to Spy’s thigh, reminding him, “Stay.” before giving him a hard smack.

“_ Deux _.” Spy murmured under the table, obediently. Engineer replaced the cane again. Spy shifted a little under the table and slid his cheek up on the inside of the thigh. He could barely peek around the edge of the work bench to Engineer's face. “What exactly are you making for me?”

Engineer didn’t answer right away. The spy watches were incredibly delicate, and temperamental. He knew he would not make a mistake to electrocute himself with it, but if he broke it, his plan was ruined. “I’m making a kill switch for your watch. If you leave your designated range your watch becomes a fancy bracelet.”  
  
Spy was intrigued. “You will let me have my watch?”

“Just while you’re in town with me,” he clarified.

“How long is this leash you are giving me?” He wasn’t sure it mattered. Spy escaped dangerous situations before without his watch. He could escape again, now, if it was his last chance.

“Yard or two.” Engineer guessed. “My gunslinger will be holding the other end of that ‘leash’ as you put it.”

“_Merde, qu’est ce qu’est un _ ‘yard’?” he muttered.

The American chuckled and translated, “Almost a metre.”  
  
“Is that all, regarding restrictions?” Spy asked.

“No, I’ll be clear on the rules before we go.” Engineer assured.

The Frenchman couldn’t help but plan, or rather, day dream. He knew the Engineer could not lead him on an actual leash, or force him to crawl on his hands and knees. He expected he must even be in clothes again to be in town. There wasn’t going to be anything to stop him from escaping with his life. Nonetheless, he playfully assured, "I won’t wander away. I won't bring you any trouble. I won't talk to strangers..."

Engineer grinned. “Oh, I know you won’t.” Engineer continued his work on the device and its receiver, finally managing to focus enough that he could ignore the Spy’s comments and concerns. He felt the pressure of Spy’s head on his thigh and knew the man was in place as he crafted exactly what he said: a kill switch, and a beacon to add to his gunslinger. And secretly, he created a very small microphone to implant in the watch, and a speaker in his gunslinger.

He was pulled from his concentration when clever hands pressed to his groin and squeezed his cock. He leaned back and looked down at the Spy. “Are you trying to distract me?”

The Frenchman looked up with a clever smirk, “I’m trying to thank you for my watch.”

“Tell the truth…” The Engineer warned.

Spy’s smirk twisted into a frown at the order which would betray himself. “You have been working for hours, and without a word to answer anything I say.” Spy was behaving so well today, Engineer was starting to think he’d have to save the caning for before bed, get him to sleep after turning his ass and thighs red. No matter how well he behaved, he was gonna take every stroke, and Engineer looked forward to that. But he also didn’t mind giving a few correcting strokes along the way.

Engineer had the cane in his hand in an instant and snapped it across Spy’s thigh. The Frenchman jumped enough to hit his head on the table and shake it slightly, quickly following that with a curse in his native tongue. He shifted under the table and announced "_ Trois _ ."  
  
Satisfied, the American unzipped the front of his jeans and freed his cock. “Good. Now, if you insist, you can get along to thanking me.” Spy didn't sulk when Engineer corrected him. As Engineer intended, the harsh corrections reminded Spy who was in charge. Now Engineer closed his eyes and relaxed, though he kept the cane in his hand. He let the sensations wash over him, letting Spy spread his knees, open his trousers, and lean in to suck his cock.

Spy was determined to assault Engineer with the best blow job he had in his life. He utterly molested Engineer's cock as it grew inside his mouth, letting it swell and press deeper into his mouth, tease the entrance of his throat and then fill it. Only when the man was nursed to his full length, Spy sucked from the base to tip, allowing himself to ease off and breathe.

Engineer’s cane snapped the side of his leg again. He groaned through the pain as it lanced through him, and announced, "_quatre,_" before returning to Engineer's cock to give him no relief from the techniques that made him vocalize. Spy was playing his own game, his oral attentions were aiming at making Engineer cum loudly and messily, in less than a minute. Engineer could stop Spy at any time, of course. But Engineer wouldn’t, not when he could strike Spy with the cane, forcing him to stop and give the strike a number.

Engineer did become more and more vocal as Spy worked. He tapped with the cane every time before striking him, letting him know when the blow was coming, bringing them from four strikes up to eight. Spy’s mouth felt incredible, he was as skilled as he’d bragged before. Engineer groaned low and long, his gunslinger resting gently on Spy’s head. “Good,” he praised, unable to even see much of the man pleasuring him.

From the praise, Spy resisted a smile that pulled his lips and made the cock sucking more challenging. He pulled back from the cock and squeezed Engineer's thighs as he requested, "again."

Engineer gave him the familiar tap first again, then the cane bit into Spy’s thigh. “I need a number,” he murmured.

Spy hissed at the pain. It certainly took the smile away. He answered, "_neuf,_" And then wrapped his lips around the thick cock in his mouth again, to give it his total attention again.

“Good, good,” he praised, tapping him with the cane before raining down three stinging blows. He was close already. 

Spy opened his mouth when he felt the warning tap. And he was glad he did. He needed to bite his lip and press his forehead to Engineer's thigh as it snapped across his skin. He whimpered under the second strike. "_Dix _ ... _ onze _ … _ douze,_" He named each stroke obediently and then returned to the cock eagerly. Despite the pain, Spy couldn't help a stirring of interest in his loins. He could insist it was only from the fellatio he was performing. But the pain biting into his skin stroked pleasure inside him. Genuine physical pleasure that wanted its own release. Spy moaned quietly as he bucked his hips into empty air.

The cane rapped over his skin again, causing a whimper, then again, causing a scream. Then Engineer’s gunslinger tightened and he was cumming into Spy’s mouth and muffling his scream.

The semen spilled through his mouth and Spy swallowed it down as soon as he composed himself. But Engineer's taste was going to definitely linger on his tongue tonight. When the gunslinger left his head, Spy withdrew from the cock and caught his breath, then murmured, "_et quatorze_." Spy stroked his hand along the side of his thigh to feel the raised red lines. "_Mon Dieu_, that is enough for that side."

Engineer sighed, standing to zip himself back up. “Come on out, let me see those marks.” He had the other stand to let him stroke his hand over the fresh red marks on Spy’s leg. “Yeah you’re gonna have a real nice bruise.” Engineer admired the marks and how clean they were. For not being able to see much, he’d made some damn straight lines. Just the way he’d been taught to use a cane.

Spy leaned on the edge of the workbench to let Engineer admire his work. Spy had to admire it also. The lines were so near each other, perfectly aligned without touching, until the final two, doubling back and crossing over previous lines, making twice the pain. He let Engineer torment him enough now that he could appreciate the man's skill as something much more than brute violence. 

He noticed Spy’s erection and nudged him gently between the thighs. “You liked that, mm? The pain, or the cock sucking?”

"Don't make me answer that," Spy said, with a little embarrassment. Sexual performance, and pain were beginning to entwine together here until he was losing control of why he was responding.

“It ain’t a hard question,” Engineer murmured, lifting Spy’s hips to sit on the edge of the table. “It’s either answer it, or this,” he nudged Spy’s cock gently, “gets ignored.”

Spy looked down over his own body, his matching pierced nipples, his hard cock, his new red lines striping his leg, “It was the combination of it. The strength of your hand on my head, the taste of your cock… the sting of the cane.” His own cock twitched at the thought and he started to raise his eyes up to Engineer, but the other was faster.

Engineer gripped Spy’s hip and turned him around sharply to face the table, then repositioned his grip to pull his hips back to meet him. Spy braced himself on the table, stunned and frozen still for a moment until Engineer’s warm hand reached around to grip his cock and begin pumping it. “Keep talking,” he growled quietly.

The Frenchman shivered in excitement now. The cock pressed to his back end was flaccid but his body was still hard and unyielding. Even if he wasn’t being bent over and fucked, it somehow felt right to be postured like this, prone and submissive, milked of his own climax.

“_Je pense que _… hmm… I like to be dominated by you. It excites me to feel you like this, in control.” He carefully lowered down to his elbows on the workbench and spread his legs comfortably. Engineer’s gunslinger stroked down his hip over the fresh marks from the cane.

His eyes flicked over the table to the watch under the bright desk light. It was his own watch, in better condition than he remembered it. The desert dust that settled into little cracks was carefully cleaned out, and the dark red leather band was freshly oiled. “You’re going to make me cum like this? Right over your hard work?”

Engineer gripped Spy’s hip and pulled him backwards a full step, bringing his elbows to the edge of the table, just out of reach of the watch, but close enough to admire it and remember how it felt when it had been around his wrist. “If you touch that watch, you’ll be taking the rest of your strokes right now.”  
  
Spy winced as he felt his cock throb in the other’s palm. When Engineer chuckled, he knew he noticed. “You like that?” The Frenchman gasped and shook his head. His ability to focus, and reason, was becoming increasingly foggy, as he was pushed closer and closer to his limit. “Thinking about the hell to pay if you don’t follow orders the way you ought to?”

Spy had no temptation to try to touch any part of the watch, but the threat made the simple presence of the watch as dangerous as a venomous snake right under his nose. He clenched his hands shut into fists, willing himself to obey Engineer to the letter, and the next moment he was cumming.  
  
Engineer stepped back and watched his partner as he wiped his hand clean with a rag. His pet was far too under his control to try anything sneaky yet. But seeing it again, so close, was going to plant a seed in the rogue’s mind. Sneaky little thoughts would start to come back to his mind, Engineer expected, and it wouldn’t be long until he started planning to contact the Classic Team.  
  
It was necessary, to tempt his own pet like this, to lure him into a trap to get what he wanted. Engineer tossed the soiled rag on the table and picked up the cane. He rapped it on Spy’s thigh and commanded, “Let’s go.”  
  
Spy, still catching his breath, panted, “_quinze_.” He lowered down to his hands and knees and crawled along the floor, moving under the direction of quick taps from the cane, to the kitchen.

He prepared a neat little lunch and served it at the table. The ate in silence as Spy’s mind wrapped around the idea of having his watch in his possession again.

Spy took the plates and arranged the kitchen. The rogue knew he would need to plan and effect a new escape. Engineer's plan to give him his watch and take him into some public area would certainly give Spy many opportunities to escape. And in some strange way, Spy was almost sad for that. When he saw an opportunity, he knew he needed to take it. And once he was gone, there was no turning back.

When he was ready to leave the kitchen he joined Engineer. “C’mon,” he said, snapping the cane over Spy’s unmarked hip. He was curious to see if he’d remember the next number in the sequence after a short break.

Spy jumped slightly at the unexpected snap, but as soon as the pain sunk in, the concerns in his mind were far away. Tomorrow, and the possible escape, were an issue for later. Right now, all he needed to think about was the rules of the Engineer, and coming strikes.

"What number was that?" Engineer asked. He rubbed the cane over the new red mark, teasingly.

Spy froze, sucking in a breath and trying of what he was counting while he crawled to the kitchen, his mind clouded with sex, and the sight of his watch. “Twenty… twenty three!” Engineer chuckled and he knew he guessed incorrectly.

“Looks like we’re starting over.” Engineer said. He hoped to thrash the poor man soundly and reduce him to tears again tonight. He could already imagine the sight of his lean pale body tangled in the sheets, ass beaten dark red.

“Wait, wait! My behaviour today was wonderful. Surely you can be persuaded to give me the strokes as gentle taps.” He turned to face the man with the cane.

Engineer only laughed, "You ain't getting out of it that easy, you miscounted and that was one of the rules." Engineer chided.

"I can tell you information." Spy suggested. Engineer grunted and the other was quick to assure, “You won’t even need to consider what to ask me. I’ll offer my knowledge up easily!" He didn't want to risk letting the man ask something he didn't know the answer to again.

"All right. But it's up to me to judge whether or not it's worth a caning." Engineer led him back to the bedroom, he patted the bed once Spy had caught up, getting him positioned so his ass was in the air, again. "Alright, here are the rules. Forty strokes with the cane. For every piece of information you share, that I happen to like, you’ll receive a tap like so..." he patted the cane to Spy's ass to demonstrate. "But we'll still count it."

The gentle tap was firm enough to feel it, but without any sting. Spy was relieved and nodded, "_Oui_, this is fair." The cane left his skin and he gripped the bed sheets tightly, anticipating a sharp sting eventually.

Spy sighed quietly, thoughtfully. Tasked with bringing up something made his memory entirely blank. He wondered if he knew anything at all that the Engineer didn't already know. There were only intimate details of himself, known by very few. "My birthday is the 1st of June, 1929."

"That's one," Engineer said, giving him a light tap on the ass with the cane. He hadn't been expecting Spy to come out with that, but if it was facts about himself, there could end up being a fact or two about the Classic Spy too. 

Spy was pleased. It was private knowledge, but certainly nothing he worked hard to learn about. He tried to pull that statement a little further, testing if this was allowed, "Of course, this indicates I am Gemini."

"I can do the math there myself." Engineer laughed, not giving him a tap. "Nice try."

Spy gripped the sheets, expecting a firm crack of the cane. When it didn't come, he knew it meant he needed to offer something in its place. He admitted, a bit sheepishly, "I'm not from France, not... not originally."

That brought a tap of the cane to Spy's rear, and a surprised expression to Engineer's face. He didn't say anything, but was curious to see if he'd get to hear where he was _ originally _ from. 

He knew he shouldn't let Spy draw things out that could just be one tap, but it was difficult to manage it when he wasn't sure if more information would be forthcoming. This wasn't a usual interrogation. He could focus on any information he got here later if he needed to. This was a game and needed to be played as such.

Spy was careful how he worded the confession. He certainly considered himself to be a Frenchman after growing up in Paris, and learning the language. But his origins were a different matter. "My father was Italian. This is where I was born."

He got a light tap. "Mother's French, grew up in France?" he guessed. Spy's accent said very little about where exactly he was from, but it was definitely French and it seemed to be genuine.

The Spy nodded, looking back to be sure the other man was convinced. "_Oui_. Make no mistake, I am French! I have the surname of my mother, _ Bordeaux_, not my father!" No matter what his birth certificate said. His mind rolled through every detail he knew of himself, searching for anything valuable. This man knew him intimately. He knew every tattoo on his body, and every other detail his clothing ever hid. "I have a tattoo for you."

Engineer snorted. "Bullshit you do." Still, he waited for an explanation before striking him.

Spy rocked forward, cautious of the possible blow to come. "_Si, c'est vrai_!" He looked back at the man, grinning despite himself, knowing he was in a dangerous situation but smiling anyway to say it, "Barely a month after I first met you."

"Which tattoo?" Engineer knew all his tattoos, how was that possible? Though... he had known spies in the past to tattoo the inside of their lip, or use blacklight ink. He hadn't bothered to check this spy for either of them. 

Spy looked back at the other man, smirking and raising his brow as if the whole situation was controlled in the palm of his hands. "You aren't asking questions tonight..."

Engineer reminded him, “I’m still holding the cane.”

Spy sighed, his left hand reached around his body, following the contours of his ribs. His hand looked a little alien, reaching around with two missing fingers. The two remaining fingers pressed into his skin where a sprig of flowers was tattooed. He was searching for it by the feeling of the scar underneath the ink. His fingertips stopped on the scar, then moved away to reveal the tattoo, "_ Voilà _. It is 'Bluebonnet'. The flower of Texas."

Engineer recognised the flowers once he was told. Such a bold symbol of his home state didn’t look out of place on the Frenchman’s skin, surprisingly enough. He knew he wasn't meant to be the one asking questions during their little game, but he couldn't help one more. "Why'd you get it?" He ran his fingers over it, finding the same scar Spy used to locate it. "And why over this scar?"

Spy clicked his tongue. "You are asking questions. Answering this should be worth ten strokes of the cane, at least." answering the questions was easy, but he found something Engineer wanted to know more about. He wasn’t going to give it up for nothing.

“A stroke per question,” he agreed. “Two more.” 

Spy sighed "it is a souvenir. This is the first bullet to hit me when I joined the gravel wars. From the gun of your sentry... It wasn’t enough to kill me. After Medic closed the wound, I went to get a tattoo for the first injury in battle, to remember the man who did it to me."

Engineer gave him two taps of the cane, gentle enough to communicate he was pleased with the answers he got. He found he liked that, knowing that he had caused Spy’s first scar during the gravel wars. 

He put his hand on Spy’s ribs and stroked his thumb over the tattoo with surprising gentleness. 

“Alright, let’s move on.”

Spy searched his mind. He could only think of Engineer now. He thought quietly and stated a fact, "I never broke into your workshop, during the Gravel Wars." Sapping his sentries or taking his identity was one thing, but he never trespassed. Engineer must know that when there was never a trace the spy was there. But then, maybe he was as suspicious and paranoid as anyone else in the war.

This time the cane snapped across his bare skin. “I know. My security was too good not to know.” He let the cane rest against his palm. “That was nine.”

Spy flinched and twisted. "_Merde_!" More than thirty still. It seemed impossible. Unbearable! He was almost afraid to speak again, in case it wasn’t enough to spare his arse. "I never saw your security. In fact, I never even tried to break in... It defied The Administrators wishes, for me to know what you are working on at all times. But the Classic Spy warned me to stay away from your workshop. And I did."

That wasn't particularly surprising, that the Administrator wanted Spy to keep her appraised of everything he did and made. Still, it was good enough information that he gave Spy a gentle thump with the cane. "Good advice," he chuckled.

Spy's mind was lingering on his mentor now. Despite how well he knew the man, he knew almost nothing about him. The few details he did know, he must wonder how private they were. His own team was certainly never so private with secrets. "Medic accepted the offer to work with the classic team to fund his collection of exotic animal organs, from the black market."

Another gentle hit. This was good, the Administrator would need to know. Some men were loyal to a cause, some men were loyal to money, and each could be bought in their own way.

Spy breathed a sigh of relief, and admitted, "I offered to the Sniper to come as well. He refused the offer. He is..." He hesitated. He didn't know where the man was now. His knowledge of the outside world stopped at the point Engineer captured him.

Engineer prompted him to continue, “He is...?” The cane hovered over Spy’s ass, waiting.

"He is not participating with the Classic Team. If he was, they would position him deep in the outback, guarding a secret base hidden in a plateau. It suited his skills well."

“Mm,” Engineer hummed, pleased to be getting more useful information. He tapped the cane carefully over the reddened skin of Spy’s ass. 

"And the Scout..." he was thoughtful for a moment, "He is in prison now." It was a bold statement to make, but he followed it with a bolder claim, "He is possibly even dead already."

Engineer frowned. He wondered sometimes, how much of a Spy’s knowledge was a first-hand collection of facts, and how much of it was a prediction based on evidence he collected before the events. The administrator wanted to reassemble a team to go up against the Classic Team. They’d need a Scout.

He tapped Spy again. 

Spy sighed, full of relief. Along that line, he offered, "His mother is a double agent. She is very aware of the inner workings of TFI, I don't know where she gets her information... However, I know she gives her information in exchange for sexual favors."

"That would explain the photos I found my teammates gambling for on poker nights," he laughed. The photos of RED Spy and Scout's mother in some compromising positions were apparently quite coveted by some of his team members. The cane came down gently again. "That was fourteen."

"The Administrator does this as well. Information for sexual favours." He smirked, sure that most men never considered the administrator to be anything but a very dry voice on the speakers.

"Ain't too much of a surprise," he snorted. She was a manipulative woman, she would use any methods she thought would work, morality be damned.

Spy's jaw nearly dropped, "_Pardon_?" he forgot his position for a moment as he started to turn, "Did you know? Did... you?"

He laughed. "She made a suggestion to me once, but I wasn't_ that _ keen on getting information.” That woman would use anyone for anything for her benefit, and he had been dealing with people like that for a long time.

Spy smiled and settled back into place. Although he was naked and bared, this didn't seem so dangerous. His mind wandered and settled on the man behind him, "I know your home is in Bee Cave, Texas."

He got another tap of the cane for that, though it also brought a frown to Engineer's face. He wasn't sure he liked where the Spy's thoughts were headed. Information about himself wasn't useful.

"Your father left the family business, and you, you don't have contact with him. And your mother is deceased.” The spy stated frankly.

Engineer almost shook from the words and when he tapped his captive’s ass, it was a little harder and faster than he intended. Spy grunted.

"She was killed by a spy."

Engineer warned, “Enough about my family.” The cane came down with a crack, right over the familiar bruise from the same tool.

Spy whimpered and his toes curled. It was a harsh blow, especially after the soft taps and amused laughter they were sharing moments ago. He was a little more cautious in offering something now. He tried something he was sure was safe, "I'm the first spy you collared."

He got a tap, though Engineer still wasn't amused. 

Spy was relieved, and now wondering how many 'firsts' he experienced with this man. "I'm certain I am the first spy you ever took to bed with you."

Another tap. He didn't want these things to be true, but there was really no denying it. And he didn't really want to deny it either, he hadn't ever broken this rule before.

Spy was a little emboldened now, "I would bet you never even slept with a man, before me." The grin on his face was leaking into his voice.

This time the cane snapped hard over his bruised ass, and Engineer shook his head. "Alright, enough of that, change the subject."

Spy hissed and jumped. He looked back at the other with a bit of a glare, "I'm wrong?" He couldn't believe it. The man was handsome enough, and charming when he wanted to be. But he was dangerous, and sadistic. He couldn't imagine anyone being able to withstand this man, unless it was a spy. "But you _ are _ homosexual?"

He snorted, "I hope that ain't supposed to keep me from caning you, because that was a question." His accent seemed thicker, somehow. Spy squirmed at the thinly veiled threat, apparently he did plan to suggest that as an answer. "It ain't something I like to share, for obvious reasons. You like men and women?" 

"I'm using this for my answer to spare myself a stroke…” Spy rarely questioned his sexuality or tried to label it. He knew how to effectively seduce and truly satisfy both men and women, and he considered himself a lover of both. But in his short time here, Spy found himself craving Engineer's body in ways he didn't expect. He could be inclined to believe that sexuality was not a question of who he was willing to sleep with, but rather, who it pleased him to sleep with. “I sleep with women and men without discrimination. But... I prefer men more." Spy waited for a response from the cane.

"I'll accept that," Engineer nudged him with the cane. "Does anyone else know that about you? I'll take that as an answer too."

Spy laughed lightly at the strangeness of the situation. This was the most threatening confession of feelings he ever experienced. "Non. I'm only beginning to realise this about myself, sir," the Frenchman answered.

That was even better, somehow. Engineer couldn't help but wonder if Spy was coming to this realization because of their relationship. He wondered if he figured out his preferences because of their sexual relationship. He wondered hopefully that he might be taking over that coveted position of authority, power, and adoration in Spy’s mind that was previously reserved for his mentor. He took a slow breath, tapping Spy again. "That was twenty-four. What's next? Impress me."

Spy hummed, as though pretending to think about what he knew. But truly, his thoughts were consumed by what he didn’t know, or what he hoped Engineer would put into words. He stated, “No one but BLU Spy knows we are here.”

This time there was an actual strike. "You missed that one," Engineer chuckled. The engineer couldn’t help enjoying as he punished Spy for it, even if, perhaps, it was a bad idea to admit to Spy that this involved more than just the two of them.

Spy hissed sharply and arched his back up. He twisted to look over his shoulder and demanded, “_Non_! Who?”

Engineer cracked the cane across his bottom again and reminded him, “We ain’t here for you to ask me questions.”

Spy growled, becoming rather annoyed. He couldn't resist stabbing at the elephant in the room, what they both certainly knew. He glared down at the bed sheets in his fists and stated, "I know you're planning to kill me. I know in your plans, I should already be dead."

His amusement faded, and he tapped Spy again. "Are you sure this is a subject you want to talk about?"

Spy looked back over his shoulder, meeting the Engineer's eyes, daring him, "I know now that you let me live this long, you're thinking you might not want to kill me."

Again, he got a tap. Engineer met his eyes sternly, unable to deny it. So he said nothing. He needed to let the man think he could survive this. He needed the Spy to have enough hope that he fell into the trap of calling out to his mentor.

The Engineer was in a delicate balance of power, guiding and following, to let a trap open. The Spy was also in a delicate situation, gently tugging at strings, knowing his captor’s perception of things so he could alter them and possibly convince the man that this was no place for them.

Spy didn't look away, refusing to back down. "You left your family business to work in Mann Co. to distance yourself from this work." He observed plenty, and made conclusions where he could. Engineer never put him in bondage for sexual acts, "You like power, but you want a willing partner in bed and can't help seeing the possibility of that in your prisoners." Engineer's anger whenever he lost control of a situation was likely rooted in blaming himself, "You know you aren't the spy breaker your father was, or your grandfather." The last observation was, ironically, a lack of observation, a lack of any reason Spy ever saw to carry this treatment on so far, "You want a spy, but not like this, not in these circumstances..."

He was so struck by what Spy had said he didn't respond for some time. He was struck by old memories of leaving the Conagher Ranch, insisting on going to university and becoming a properly educated engineer, willing to go anywhere to get away from the dangerous temptations waiting for him in in the basement. He searched his mind, trying to remember if he confided these thoughts with anyone, if he ever admitted he needed to get away from the spies or he would risk falling for one.

"Who could- How did you-?" He had completely lost control as Spy's question seemed to resonate with some deep and hidden part of him.

"How did I know?" Spy lifted his head just enough to look back at Engineer. "I didn't." He smirked, quite pleased with himself. Engineer kept his prisoner on his toes, constantly. And already broke down who he was a spy and rebuilt him as a pet. Spy was pleased with himself to see his mind was still as sharp as his trusted knife was.

That terrible confident smirk filled him with white hot rage. Spy had been guessing. He hadn't known. He'd given himself away by acting like a damn fool. He should have just lied to the snake. "We've got eleven more strokes and I don't want to hear a word out of you," he snarled.

Spy’s expression changed then. His superior smirk dissolved into genuine concern but it was too late. He winced as he watched Engineer’s arm come down.

Each strike was at his full strength. There was no build up. Normally he held himself back, no matter what he was doing to a prisoner, no matter how much he wanted to hurt them. Tools had limits, as much as people did, and he had broken a few before by not respecting that when he was younger. He knew by now how hard he could hit with things before they would break. 

On the tenth strike, the cane snapped in half. Engineer was breathing hard, but his anger tempered slightly, turning cold instead. That was preferable. He could control cold anger. That heated rage he felt earlier was uncontrollable, and dangerous.

Spy would not be able to speak if he tried to. He shook after every blow and couldn't stop himself from crawling forward on the bed to try to get away. He twisted the blankets and sheets to bite into but barely stifled the screams he was making at the end. The final crack made a different sound as it split the wood of the cane, and Spy pushed himself up to his hands and knees, to be alert. Spy looked back at the broken cane and the very clear anger in the Texan's features.

Engineer tossed the broken cane away and picked Spy up bodily, throwing him over his shoulder. Spy was slender, weighing far less than him, and he was easy enough to carry. He walked them down to the basement, and unceremoniously dumped Spy in his cell. All thoughts of keeping Spy in his bed, of fucking him again, were gone. Once the door was closed, Engineer just leaned against the wall, stony-faced. As far as he knew, no one had ever seen this horrible side of him; the part of him that wanted this to be something real and honest. Even he didn't look at that side of himself. He shut it away and pretended it wasn't there, the way he was shutting Spy away in the basement now.


	25. Public Nudity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time to restock supplies, whether it is to keep up appearances for the game they are playing, or to sustain their games to continue a little longer. Engineer has ideas in mind to make sure Spy behaves himself in public.

_ The assassination was fast, and it was sloppy. The room was pitch dark after the lamp fell and shattered. Throughout the scuffle René was unable to identify anything with any certainty until he felt warm blood flowing over his hand, pouring around a shard of the broken lamp. _

_ He didn’t have time to catch his breath or even check himself for injuries before footsteps came rushing to the door and it flew open, spilling light into the room. A young man in a blue suit stared in shock at the dead woman on the floor, her own blue suit stained by fresh blood. _

_ René released the shard still lodged in her neck, grimacing as sharp edges buried into his palm slid free. He straightened his tie and commented, “Nothing personal, I assure you. Strictly business.” If the man in the doorway was familiar with the dead spy he would understand, even if he wasn’t happy. _

_ “Imbécile!” The man in the doorway cried, “Je te tuerai! Je te tuerai un millier de fois!” He was becoming angrier, and more passionate, threatening murder and then a thousand murders against the assassin before him. _

_ Suddenly the stranger in a blue suit had a knife in his hand and René jumped to his feet only fast enough to dodge the fatality of the blade. Rather than plunging deep into his gut, it sliced across his skin from the soft dip of his stomach, up to his chest. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ René clutched the wound with his bleeding palm. As he met the other man’s eyes he knew the woman’s death would be paid for in blood. There would be a mark on his head until one of them was dead. _

*

  
  


Engineer felt a tired ache from the fading anger as he headed upstairs. He didn’t want to face Spy right now, when he wasn’t on his toes, when he wasn’t in fighting shape. If things went sideways, who knew what could happen. Spy had legitimately gotten under his skin and the worst part was he knew it. Spy’s smirking expression was stuck in Engineer’s memory. He grimaced as he closed the basement door behind him.

A simple low-grade security beacon was beeping, signaling that someone was on the property. He frowned, heading to the front door. It could only be the BLU Spy, or another one of the Administrator’s people. No one else ignored the signs at the gate, warning trespassers against entering.  
  
The spy did not wait for his host to unlock the door. He allowed himself in after picking the lock, but he stopped in the entryway when he saw his former teammate, frozen in a sneaky semi-crouched posture. “_Bonsoir. _ You must be done by now with your work. I hoped you would let me do the honours…” He looked around, expecting to see some trace of his former counterpart.

Engineer’s expression turned to a scowl. He didn’t want to be reminded of his work, or his responsibility to kill the RED Spy, or how much anyone else wanted to be the one to do it. “If you think I’m gonna let you do something I’ve been looking forward to for years, you’ve lost your damn mind, boy.”

As his eyebrow raised, he stood up to his full height. “You’re looking forward to it? He _ is _ still alive?” He studied the other very suspiciously now, “Have you ever kept a prisoner for this long before?”

“I ain’t working for you, I don’t need to explain shit to you.”

"You know you can't keep a spy forever. They find a way out, and you cannot risk compromising _ her _ mission." He took a long drag of the cigarette dangling on his lip and commented, "You're past flirting with danger now. You're inviting it into bed with you."

Engineer bit his tongue, and fought to keep his face passive. He didn't know. He couldn't know. "After tomorrow, he's dead.” 

The BLU Spy smirked around his cigarette, he folded his arms and the face of his watch flashed in the light. He took a step closer to Engineer, but Engineer didn’t want to hear anything this Frenchman had to say.

“Get out,” Engineer said, plainly.

The BLU Spy’s smirk disappeared. He knew his former team mate was a dangerous man, and a long history of working for the same man would not earn much mercy if he overstepped his bounds. His eyes swept over the room a final time, but he said nothing. He backed out of the door, into the shadows, and closed the door behind himself.

The perimeter alert beeped as it sensed movement, and Engineer watched through a window to be sure the uninvited guest left the property and was truly gone. When the perimeter alert was silent and there was no sign of life out in the desert, he turned away from the window.

Engineer headed back to the workshop, checking over Spy’s watch. Everything was ready. He turned on the video screen that showed Spy’s small cell. The Frenchman was resting miserably, prone on his bed roll, still crying, and tenderly caressing his fresh marks with the back of his hand to soothe them. It was not the same as having his pet kneeling by his feet, soft and obedient, but it was nicer than working alone.

He finished the final touches on the watch, securing every small screw into place, and then arranged the other tools he would need for their outing the next day.

  
  


*

  
  


A little calmer, with his plan firmly in his mind, Engineer went down to let Spy out first thing the next morning.

Spy was up and on his knees the moment he heard the door unlocking. Spy spoke first, "I'm sorry." In a soft and humble, surprisingly sincere voice. He crawled to the doorway, desperate to leave the cold cell. 

"I know," he said, putting a hand on Spy's head. "Let's go."

Spy was unable to hide a sigh of relief, "_Merci_." He knew a punishment wasn’t done until the other was satisfied, and as he waited in his cell he worried how badly he overstepped. He crawled ahead of Engineer, staying obediently on his hands and knees up the steps.  
  
Engineer was only a step behind him, allowing himself to appreciate how the caning grew into welts and bruises. The floral tattoo on the back of Spy’s thigh was colourful with deep blues and purples that spilled over the lines like watercolour. It pulled a small smile to the corner of his mouth.

Spy started to crawl to the kitchen and Engineer reminded, “Nothin’ left to cook in there. Let’s go to the garage.” His pet nodded obediently and hurriedly corrected himself. He was likely very afraid of receiving any corrective smack on the rear, over his fresh marks. It would keep him obedient today, Engineer hoped.

“Stand up.” Engineer commanded as they reached his work desk. The tall man immediately lifted up to his feet. He was doing his best to focus on his sir, and not make any mistakes, but he couldn’t resist sparing another glance to his watch on the table. Engineer watched the subtle surprise in his features as he saw what else was put out beside it.

The man stood perfectly still, waiting for his next command, as Engineer took up a long chain attaching two nipple clamps. 

With Spy obediently at his feet, he attached the nipple clamps tightly to each of his pierced nipples. This time the chain was attached to his collar's o-ring, though not too tightly. He didn’t want the clamps to pull free. It was just tight enough to remind him that it was there, and to make stretching out a little painful.

Engineer nodded to the table and Spy nodded obediently, turning to place his chest down flat on the broad surface. Spy watched as Engineer picked up his plug next. He was excited, but nervous, not yet knowing what the tone was for today. Engineer slicked it and worked it into Spy without much hesitation, pressing it in as Spy's body opened to it. The Frenchman winced, only when Engineer grabbed his ass cheek, careless of the bruises, to spread him open.

Engineer watched as the widest part of the plug was accepted and Spy’s body closed tightly around it, holding the flared base flat against his entrance. He wiped the lube off of his hands on his trousers and grabbed neatly folded handcuffs. Spy didn’t resist as each hand was guided behind his back and encircled in the metal ring.

Finally, he took the watch. Spy sucked in a deep breath. The watch was so close, but so far, right under his nose but too dangerous to touch. He looked over his shoulder, unable to wait to find out, “We are going to town? We’re getting groceries?” Somehow he couldn’t believe it was happening.

Engineer buckled the watch around his captive’s skinny wrist and turned it around so he could handle the face. “We’re goin’ into town, and running a couple errands.” He pressed the right button to make Spy invisible. "You’re goin’ like this. If you stray too far from me, the kill switch is gonna turn that fancy watch into a fancy bracelet, and you’re gonna be bare naked in the middle of town.”

Spy couldn't be seen, but Engineer could feel him become tense in his hand. Engineer pulled him up so that he was standing. He was quiet for a while as the information all came at once and Engineer couldn’t help flexing his gunslinger, just in case the spy tried something stupid.

Spy was looking down over himself, watching the way light warped around his naked body. This was vulgar and obscene. This would not be the first time he went out in public with his plug secretly pressed inside him, but he was clothed and composed each time he dabbled in such mischief before. This time he was almost as exposed as he could be. “How much distance is… er… a ‘yard’?”

"Test it out," Engineer suggested.

Spy cautiously backed up and waited to hear the crackle of an uncloaked spy. But instead there was a quiet hum as the watch turned off completely. He thought he was used to being fully nude in front of the Engineer, but suddenly he felt the need to curl in on himself. His cuffed hands prevented even covering his groin. "This is dangerous! What happens if we’re seen? I’ll be considered a pervert- and you? What will they think of you, leading me along like this, at my side and…” He became quiet, realising Engineer certainly didn’t need to pretend to know him. “You wouldn’t… abandon me in this state. Would you?”

"You won’t have to worry about that if you keep up." Engineer said, darkly. Of course, he couldn’t abandon Spy like this. His plans would completely fall apart. Luckily, after so much careful planning he knew he could risk the one variable he could foresee: Spy not wanting to be exposed in public like this.

Spy shuddered at the thought of being taken as a prisoner by a simple local police. His mug shot would be an embarrassment to his career. His captivity under Engineer was not proud, maybe. But it was private. Perfectly private.  
  
Engineer walked to his truck and opened the door of his truck. “Come on.” 

Spy breathed deeply and asked, "May I walk?"

"Yes," Engineer gave him that. There was no way the spy could keep up with him on his knees. He needed to be somewhat mobile, but he appreciated that he asked for confirmation. He patted the man’s rear as he climbed into the truck without the use of his hands, praising him, “Good boy.”

In the car, safely away from any tools or trinkets Spy might brazenly grab, Engineer pressed the button on the watch to enable the cloaking device. He opened the garage remotely and backed out of the tight space into the yard, under the vast and open sky.

Spy hummed quietly as he leaned closer to his window just to feel the sunlight on his skin. The sky was blindingly bright, and the desert seemed more vast than he ever remembered. Spy chuckled, amazed at the irony when he realised how pleased he was to smell the desert air. He never expected to appreciate this.

The truck went along the dusty road to a main highway, but there wasn’t any traffic out here, or even neighbors. Spy looked into the distance with some fear as nothing presented itself for miles in any direction. A car was his only chance for escape. If he tried to leave by foot, Engineer would find him easily in this flat land, and would probably drag his captive back to the dungeon with a rope behind the truck.

Spy shook his head to push the thought out of his mind and instead looked back at the small bluish grey cement cube they came from, disappearing back into the dusty haze of the desert. “Where are we? Is this the same desert? Is it even New Mexico? It must be the American South West, is that right?” 

"Do you really think you need to know any of that?" he chided, reaching over to pat Spy's invisible thigh, urging him to be patient. There was a sign marking the road up ahead and he knew that as soon as the Frenchman saw it he would be staring at it closely, waiting to make out the letters on it.

Engineer already knew what it said. 

**ARROYO DE CARMEN**

**2 kilómetros**

He hid a smirk when Spy sharply inhaled, finally reading the sign. “Mexico!? We are in Mexico!? Why!” He demanded.

“Why? You got plans to be somewhere soon?” Engineer questioned. He wasn’t answering any questions, but he wasn’t here by mistake. It was a good location. A private place in a desert he was familiar with, not too far from the highways back to Team Fortress Inc, and the Administrator’s headquarters, and not too far from the highways back to Texas. 

Spy groaned, having no answer except for his displeasure with the situation. Engineer pulled into town and parked on the main road in the middle of town. He got out of the truck and stood by the open door while waiting til Spy was clear.

Some fellows leaning against the wall outside of markets nodded in friendly greeting to the Texan and Spy asked suspiciously, “You know these people? How?”

Engineer shut the door, “Shoot, you think I spend all night waiting on you when you get your ass locked in the cell?” he chuckled, “I come to the saloon sometimes, when I know you ain’t causing trouble.”

The spy bristled, surprised by his own jealousy. But he kept that to himself and fell into line following Engineer along the street. 

At first, Spy couldn't make sense of where to put himself. He couldn't walk next to Engineer. The smallest bump could make his cloak shimmer. Spy was very cautious of the cloak failing. More cautious than he ever was in battle when there was a very immediate risk of being shot. Engineer walked ahead and Spy followed him, knowing the power on his watch was ticking down quickly. Spy stopped walking before it could run out and desperately whispered, "Wait for me!"

Engineer stopped and adjusted the yellow work glove pulled over his gunslinger. He found himself excited at the idea of having his naked captive here, collared and filled, with no one the wiser.

A man sweeping the front of his store looked up but only noticed Engineer. "_Sr. Conagher! Hola!_”

Engineer's shift from dangerous captor to good ole boy was immediate. He gave the man a smile, “_Buenos _ _ días__._”

“_La gente de pueblo creían que te habías ido! Me alegro de que estés aquí!_” The old man spoke quickly, much faster than the slow drawl the Frenchman became used to in the South West. Spanish was always a challenging language for him, more challenging than it deserved to be. The words could sound so familiar, to a French and Italian speaker, but with so few rules he found himself stepping over missing words like potholes in a road, too distracted to know where he was going. Before he could decipher the meaning, Engineer was answering.

“_Si, estoy aquí… por un rato más_.” Engineer answered, careful to not give any details of his plans. He was sure that the Spy spoke Spanish as well as he did, if not better. Engineer carried on softly, explaining he was taking apart a car recently, but making no mention that it was a very high-tech spy car, and that the owner was his captive. It wasn't exactly a lie, and those were the lies Engineer told best.

Spy listened with intrigue, in perfect silence. He was sure he was missing a lot of the meaning, but the Texan’s drawl allowed him to keep up. He doubted the Engineer told anyone anything private about his work, making it both bizarre and fascinating to see someone interacting with the man so casually.

“_Hasta pronto, mi amigo_," he said, opening the door while he said it so Spy would have time to get inside. Once in the grocery store, it was much easier pausing for Spy whenever the cloak was running low. He smiled at anyone who greeted him and made small talk. It came naturally to him. All throughout, he felt the thrill of power at having Spy completely at his mercy, naked and powerless, patiently waiting in silence, depending completely on him for safety.

Spy never tested the distance of the leash he was permitted. He would be the man’s shadow, if he could, careful to be so close no one might brush against him. Engineer picked up a bundle of carrots from the produce section and asked, “How’s this?”

The Frenchman’s focus zeroed in on the produce and he grinned. This was hardly his area of expertise, and certainly not the most valuable of his skills, but somehow it was incredibly honouring that the Engineer asked for his input. “_Oui, parfait! _ ” he whispered.  
  
Engineer placed them in a basket, pleased to know his pet was still very close. The Frenchman whispered, “And some onion.” Engineer gathered a large onion as well, and some fresh greens, and a ginger root.

Spy corrected him quickly, “_Non_, not that. I don’t need ginger to cook-”

“It ain’t for you to cook with.” Engineer replied and the Spy became quiet, confused by what other uses there were for ginger root. He went back to shopping and in time, the spy went back to commenting on what he wanted. Engineer accepted the requests, gauging the other’s behavior by how many times he thanked him. So far he counted zero.

Engineer picked up a sturdy wooden spoon and Spy commented, “I don’t need another spoon. Buy more cheese!” Engineer dropped the wooden spoon into the basket with a very satisfying solid sound, pleased with himself and his decision to buy it.

With all the groceries he'd intended to get, Engineer paid, bid a few more people goodbye, and went to the truck to leave his bags in there. He made his way to the hardware store. He spent some time just talking to the man who worked there, before finally getting some supplies, mostly just little things, nothing that Spy could immediately identify for a specific purpose.

Finished his shopping and having said goodbye to everyone he'd met along the way, Engineer went back to his truck, leaving the door open for Spy to crawl in first before hopping up himself. "You're lucky I couldn't give you a swat out there, the way you were behaving," Engineer said, but it wasn't said terribly sternly. He was in a good mood, just knowing his pet was at his side, at attention and entirely focused on him.

Spy chuckled at the soft tone of his usually very intimidating keeper. "Hmm, you're using your 'friendly-neighborhood-Engineer' voice to threaten me." A soft tapping in his palm emitted from the seemingly empty seat and he pressed the cigarette lighter on the console. “You speak Spanish.” He stated.

Engineer looked at the glowing red emblem of a cigarette cautiously and answered, “Yeah. I get by.” He didn’t consider himself fluent. He was conversational and exchanged small talk well enough, he could translate an engineering manual or blueprint if it were necessary, and maybe he could write a Spanish song to sing on his guitar.

The cigarette lighter disappeared from the console of the truck. Despite the friendship Engineer cultivated with these gentle townspeople, Spy didn’t have any moral quandries against stealing a pack of cigarettes from them. 

"You little shit," Engineer's voice lowered a little. Spy was too pleased with his fresh, crisp, cigarette, and the open road in front of him to worry at all about Engineer's tone. He hummed with amusement, and simply inhaled the cigarette again and savoured the taste. "Should've known keeping you close could only do so much for your goddamn attitude. You just asked for a spanking." He took the pack of cigarettes and tossed it into the back of the truck through the little window. He had to feel around before he found Spy's mouth, pulling the lit cigarette from between his lips and stubbing it out on whatever part of Spy he could reach; which happened to be his naked arm. 

Spy's protest was interrupted by the cigarette burn. His cloak fizzled away and showed him massaging the area around the fresh wound. Engineer frowned and commented, “Pretty sure I cuffed those hands behind you.” Spy was getting rather brave now. There was no doubt he would try something. Engineer was sure the other devised a plan by now to put his watch to use and somehow contact the outside world. He should play dumb and let it happen, but counting up the rogue’s misbehaviours he found himself looking foward to doling out one final harsh punishment.  
  
The Spy rattled his hands and considered his cuffs, “I can put them behind me again.”

“Ain’t gonna change nothin’.” Spy's body was showing the effects of Engineer's little surprises for him. The rumbling car made the anal plug nearly vibrate, causing a half-erection. The nipple clamps made the area around his nipples red, although they were likely fully numb for the moment. Spy's eyes were almost relaxed. He was nearing subspace, before Engineer took his relaxation from him. He was a lot more concerned with Engineer's tone now. 

“How will you do it?”

Engineer grinned and leaned into his carseat, gunslinger on the wheel as he thought. “I have mind to pull over on the side of the road.” The Frenchman protested weakly. “But I just bought myself a real nice wooden spoon I want to break in.” The other shook his head, hanging on every word and hating everything he heard. “But the more I think about it… I want to put you over my knee again, get a real nice view of those bruises you have, and spank your ass hard until it’s bright red.” The rogue’s expression of dread confirmed it. That is what he would do.

The drive back to the ominous cliffs of Los Lamentos felt long for Engineer, and too short for Spy. Once Engineer had pulled into the garage, he got out. "Bed," he instructed, walking with Spy in front of him. Behind him, he savoured the view of the bruised stripes.

Spy hesitated nervously at the bed, but Engineer wasn’t waiting another moment. He sat on the edge of the bed and snaked his strong arm around Spy’s waist, pulling him over his lap with his ass in the air. The gunslinger held his waist to keep him from squirming away, the other hand ran over his ass proprietarily.

Spy went over Engineer's knees without a physical protest, although the tense strain in his muscles was apparent. Spy was nearly shivering with nervousness. Last time he was spanked like this it was punishment for locking Engineer in his own basement. But the time before that it was just a game to Engineer. The constant factor was that Engineer didn’t stop until he made Spy cry. "It isn't too late to pardon me."

"It ain't too late," Engineer agreed, "but I wanna do this." He squeezed Spy's ass, spreading his cheeks apart to see the base of the plug. His pet’s hole wasn’t slick any more and his skin was becoming pink and tender from walking around with it in him. He squeezed the base and pumped into him with shallow movements to torment him.

Blood pooled around his nipples and they were no longer numb as his ass-up position let his pulse return to the area. He was very aware of how visible the base of the plug was and gasped when the other grabbed it. He crossed his legs as much as he could, trying to capture some privacy, but unable to hide anything like this. He knew that every hard spank across his ass was going to rock the plug inside him and drive him crazy with excitement. 

Once he had Spy writhing against his strong arm, he gave him his first slap. It was not a warm up of any kind, just a good strong spank. Spy's body arched under the first hard spank, and he cried, "I'm bruised there!" The pink hand print overlapped the stripes left by the cane.

"Your ass is gonna be red, remember?" he chuckled darkly. His strikes began in earnest now. Each blow was hard, and the back and forth was random, never the same number of slaps on each cheek. The blood began to rise under Spy's skin, turning his ass to pink and then red. He knew he couldn't raise bruises with just a spanking, not with an open hand, not without using the gunslinger, but he could definitely cause some serious pain to the bruises and welts that were already there.

Spy pressed his face to the bed and tried to breathe calmly. But he was useless against these humiliating treatments. Moisture stung his eyes and threatened to spill. Spy's feet slid across the ground, his cuffed hands grabbed at Engineer’s denim-clad leg, and he pleaded, "I'm sorry! You can pay the man back with the money in my coat!" The plug in his body shifted accompanying every hard spank on his ass. It buzzed inside him and made his nerves coil up with excitement. The hard spanking was painful, without a doubt. But every stinging slap forced an image into his mind: hips slapping his body as he was fucked wonderfully deeply.

His cock was becoming hard, and prodding Engineer’s leg. The moment Engineer noticed it he adjusted Spy’s position slightly to align his broad hand to cover the other’s lean arse, on the sit spot. The area where his fingers met his palm grazed the base of the metal plug.

Engineer started to spank his pet again with a wonderful, consistent rhythm. The room echoed with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and every time a solid spank rocked Spy’s body forward, his cock pulsed against Engineer’s thigh.

Spy was starting to cry and Engineer felt a rush from it. He didn’t know why he loved seeing Spy cry when he was the cause of it, but he did.

By the time Engineer’s own arousal was becoming a distraction the Spy’s ass was nice and red, with the solid print of a hand overlapping itself. The Texan’s own callous-hardened hand was beginning to sting enough to give him pause, and he felt a rush of excitement knowing his pet could plea for mercy but didn’t.

Engineer gave him a break, rubbing the cooler back of his hand over Spy’s hot skin. He scratched with his blunt nails, traced over his welts with callused fingertips. He took the plug in hand and began to work it in and out of Spy. “You just love this, don’t you?” he chuckled as Spy began to squirm on his lap. He pulled the plug out to its widest point and then pressed it back in.

Spy gasped at Engineer's vulgar suggestions, but became still. The feeling of the plug inside of him, and teasing him open to the widest point first, made his body drown in excitement. Spy's eyes rolled back as his body closed again and the plug was pulled deep. He needed a moment to compose himself and answer, “I could do without the spanking.”

“It got you hard, didn’t it?”

“Engineer, you crossed my wires somehow.” The spy accused, refusing to believe that he was so well moulded into a pet that a hard spanking would excite him. "But if I'm supposed to love it, we can use my ass for something else.” The Frenchman wiped his cheek to be dry with one hand, the hand cuffed to it hanging limply.

“Fucking you’s gonna hurt,” Engineer demonstrated by pressing his hand to one of the dark bruises on Spy’s skin. Beyond that, Spy was wearing the plug for hours now, and it was far past preparing him to the point of making him raw now. “But you asked for it.” 

He grabbed Spy’s wrists and dragged him fully onto the bed. He undressed himself quickly, not caring where his clothes landed. His cock was already hard from spanking Spy. He pulled out the smooth metal toy and set it aside, watching as Spy grabbed lubricant and started to slick his cock. He pressed his fingers into him slowly and although the lubricant he used to insert the plug was dried, the entrance was very relaxed and ready to be filled.

In seconds, Engineer was lining up his cock with Spy’s waiting hole, opening him up wide as he forced his way in. He pushed Spy down, flat on his back, and pushed his legs up to his chest. It bared the best of his punishing blows, everything from the dark red hand prints, the fading bruises, the hard cock pressed to his stomach, and his red, wet eyes. Engineer captured Spy’s hands and pulled them over his ankles, sure that this was how he brought his hands in front of him in the first place. With nothing more than a grunt of protest, Spy’s nicely cuffed wrists were holding his legs up and staying nicely where Engineer could keep an eye on them.

He gave him a swat on the side of his ass as he pumped his cock into his body. Spy's eyes opened sharply, he choked, still recovering from his sobs, “_ Non _, I wanted to be fucked instead of being spanked!”

“It must drive you wild, being this hard while you’re gettin’ your ass beat.” Engineer chuckled. He continued beat his broad palm against Spy’s tender and hurt skin, mercilessly. His cock pumped in and out of the man beneath him, groaning as Spy tightened around him with each stroke of his hand. “If I had my way, I’d train you to cum just from the heat of my hand on your ass.”

The hard hand came down again and again and Spy's hands held onto the underside of his legs, desperate for anything to hold onto. A white long drop of precum oozed from the tip of his cock to his stomach and tears began to leak from the corner of Spy's eyes. He frowned and turned his head either way, to try to hide his face from the man on top of him.

He looked like he might cum soon even with the added pain and struggle of his position and the spanking. “That’s it, pet,” Engineer growled. He was so close, and Spy’s expression only made it harder to wait.

While Engineer massaged his prostate, every hard spank became wrapped up in that pleasure until his entire ass felt like an erogenous zone. Spy stopped himself as he realised his hands were drifting down and long fingers were stretching between his thighs to stroke his cock. As soon as he realised what he was doing, he returned his hands to behind his knees, holding his legs up the way Engineer positioned him to do.

Engineer saw Spy's hand automatically reach for his own cock and then falter. Spy had brought himself under control, even like this, and Engineer felt an odd pride to see it.

"Please, sir, _ je veux jouir_," Spy begged around a whimper. He was so deep in pleasure that he reversed where he used French and English in a sentence to be understood.

"Stroke yourself," he said, nearly breathless. "I want you to cum all over yourself." The way he was bent, he might even cum across his own face. Engineer was struggling to last, Spy was so tight and hot around him, crying and begging him for permission. It was perfect. His hand never stopped. The spankings became even and regular, keeping pace with his thrusts. 

Spy gratefully slid his cuffed hands down the backs of his thighs and stretched to reach between his legs and pump himself. A blush of pleasure made his cheeks red, adding more colour to his tear stained face. The masturbating and deep fucking made him breathe heavily, conflicting with the spanking bringing fast uneven breaths from him. The combination took him to the edge quickly and as Engineer expected. Spy's body became tense and he whimpered, "wait wait-" but a hard spank tipped him over the edge until he was ejaculating on himself with thin ropes that reached up to his own hairline. He sighed with absolute relief, but his hand didn't stop and his muscles inside squeezed Engineer.

As Engineer had hoped, Spy was not done. His thrusts slowed as he tried to hold himself back, but the tight clenching of Spy's inner muscles practically pulled Engineer's orgasm out of him and he filled Spy with a low groan. He stayed as he was, his spanking never faltering but becoming softer, stinging the abused skin without further abusing it. 

The spill pushed Spy over the edge for a second climax which he announced with a shuddering sob. Although the spanking started the flow of tears, the intensity of his own climax fed it now. Spy's hand kept moving on his own cock. The final ejaculation only reached to his stomach, but streaks of tears covered his thin cheeks now. Spy's hand became still and he squirmed against the body pinning him down, "I'm done. I'm spent, let me rest!"

Engineer released him, rubbing his hand over Spy's well-beaten ass gently before he let him lay down. He picked up a towel that was discarded on the floor after a shower and used it to wipe down his pet, cum stains and tears.

Spy reached past the towel to pull himself into Engineer’s arms and guide them down to the bed where he could catch his breath and let his ass cool in the open air. The cigarette he wanted was entirely forgotten now. The nervous energy was worked out of him brutally, but thoroughly.

Engineer pet the top of Spy’s head, watching the short curls of black and grey move between his fingers. "I think you learned your lesson," he chuckled. Spy had likely more than learned his lesson, but it seemed to Engineer that he couldn’t resist pushing his limits, begging who ever was in charge to reign him in. He wondered if it was part of Spy’s nature, to do what he pleased without thinking of the consequences, knowing he could avoid consequences altogether in normal scenarios. But now that Engineer was in charge, he couldn't avoid punishment, for even the most minor slip up. Engineer stroked his hand over Spy's cheek, enjoying his quiet almost-sobs and his attempts to calm his breathing.

Spy sighed calmly, “Yes, sir.” He sounded miles away, peaceful and lost in thought. He tucked his arms around himself, seeming to comfort himself. The watch he wore, tucked out of Engineer’s view, was hard-earned and he wouldn’t let it go.

Engineer took a deep calming breath and started to prepare himself for whatever was coming. He knew the spy didn’t have a weapon and he didn’t expect that to be his first move. He left the spy with very few options to limit the variables.

By the spy-breaker’s prediction, René would sneak as far away as he could, and call the Classic Spy. He would confirm he was still an active asset and give his location, a few kilometres outside of Arroyo De Carmen. He would ask for back up to be sent to him. The Classic Spy would probably not be interested in helping after this prolonged absence. Not at first anyway. But he expected Spy would sweeten the deal and promise the caches of Australium. After that, he wasn’t sure if his spy would try to kill him first or wait for reinforcements. But it wouldn’t matter to the spy-breaker. By that point he would have the Classic Team’s location, they would be perfectly oblivious to the hand RED Spy played in their defeat, and the RED Spy will have betrayed Engineer and proven what he already knew: he could never be his.

Spy stayed in Engineer's arms for a long time. First, to wait until his breathing was calm, and then to appreciate the affection, and then to be sure Engineer was asleep.

The Frenchman whispered softly as he slipped out of his partner’s arms. "Are you awake?" Spy whispered. No response. The Engineer’s head was resting heavily on his gunslinger, and his expression was relaxed.

Spy slid to the edge of the bed, to the end of the range permitted. He looked over his shoulder again to Engineer within such close reach. It was dangerous to try contacting someone on his watch now. But this was his only chance to do it. He was sure of that. He pulled a pillow over his head to muffle his voice and the watch.  
  
His fingertips hovered over the glowing screen, hesitating. He listened for any sound of movement from Engineer and wondered if he was making the wrong choice. He dialed the number for the Classic Spy’s watch from memory.

“Falcon Eyes, over.” An older, mature voice transmitted through the watch, and the receiver in the gunslinger. Engineer’s heart sank, despite planning for this and predicting his spy would do this.

“_C’est moi_, French Kiss,” Spy answered back with his own code name. The glow from the small screen was faint but the image of his mentor made the younger man’s heart feel tight. Strangely, the sound of his voice only triggered a memory of longing, rather than any memory of satisfaction. He wanted to end the call already.

The Classic Spy reminded, “You are more than a month late to the Rendez-Vous point. I assumed you were compromised and the team continued to the next phase of our plan.” Falcon Eyes was out under an intense sun, and started to squint as he looked into his own communication screen, realising how dark his colleague’s surroundings were. The annoyance was very evident in his voice, “Are you still in America?” 

“_Oui_.” Spy confirmed, “I’m staying here a little bit longer.” 

The older man probably did not care where his apprentice was or what he did with his time, except when it affected his own plans. He commented, “I thought you were a professional.” 

“Something came up.” Spy answered cooly.

“Where are you?” The older spy asked very firmly then. 

Spy barely noticed the firm tone. He was excited to answer, to tell someone about the forbidden world he was living in, “I’m with Conagher. He found me as I was going to the jet strip and-” 

“Conagher!?” The mentor spoke over him, “You were with_ the Engineer _ all this time?” 

Spy assured, “_Oui_, but listen! He is only interested in revenge against me, this has nothing to do with you, and now-”

“What are you doing there still?” The mentor demanded, clearly regarding his student as if the man was a fool for not fleeing.  
  
Engineer became tense. This wasn’t the conversation he was expecting. The Classic Spy was smart, dangerously smart, and he knew he needed to interrupt the conversation before either of them found out too much, but every time his own Spy spoke the unexpected sentiment bound him in place.

“I’m staying.” Spy stated boldly, but he felt more self conscious regarding his decision this time. “I want to be here. I think he wants me to be here too. I can still come to your aid, when your Engineer is finished and you are ready for-”

“Stop! Stop talking!” The mentor hissed suddenly. Spy didn’t argue.

Spy knew his mentor must be suspicious of the Engineer’s intentions or at least be furious over the principle of the matter. He assured, hopefully, “This isn’t an interrogation.” 

“You believe that?” The mentor hissed with fury. It was more emotion than Spy ever heard in the cold man’s voice. “How much did you tell him while he _ wasn’t _interrogating you? What does he know about the Classic Team? My plans?” 

Spy wanted to assure him that he said nothing at all. But he realised it wasn’t true. He told Engineer everything. Any detail he could share, was shared. Engineer knew more than top secret plans, he knew intimate details that the Frenchman eagerly confessed under the belief the Engineer simply wanted to know him. The silence said everything to the mentor. 

He stated, “You’re calling me on your communicator watch.” It was an obvious statement, and acted as a lure for the many questions floating in his mind.

The spy was silent. He wanted to argue defensively that it couldn’t be a trick. The watch was confiscated as he expected, and he earned it back, and through clever misdirection he managed to keep it to make this call. But now he was realizing that he couldn’t match the skill of the Conagher Spy-Breaker.

Engineer knew he let things go too long. This wasn’t what he planned for at all and somehow he ended up exposed through the brief conversation. He extended his arm in front of him, past the edge of the bed.

Falcon Eyes was about to speak, and the screen went dark. Spy didn’t need to wonder for a second to know he lost connection, Engineer moved, Engineer was awake. His hand shot forward to grab the lamp from the nightstand and he turned over in the bed, swinging it over his head to bring it down on his captor.

The gunslinger raised up to meet the lamp defensively. It shattered and rained down in sharp pieces of glass all over the pillows. Fire was burning hot inside of the Spy, a rage unlike anything he felt before as he realised how foolish he was, how stupid he was to be used like a tool.

The illusion fell away as the light shattered, and everything looked more grim. The furnished bedroom bathed in moonlight was only another room of his prison. The bed where Engineer stroked him, and praised him, and drove him to the most intense orgasms of his life, it only replaced a sturdy chair under a bright light for interrogation purposes.

“Figured it out, huh?” Engineer spoke, his voice calm and even. His captive answered with a snarl, unable to form words through the blinding rage in his mind.

Spy found a shard of glass in the darkness as quickly as he did once before in a distant memory. His hand closed around it, letting the edges cut into his skin. Engineer grabbed Spy’s neck and lifted him out of bed with enough force to pin him to the wall. Spy fought hard, kicking back, thrashing, waiting for an opening to plunge the shard into Engineer’s body.

The Gunslinger caught the glass edge and crushed it into dust. With the spy unarmed once again, he was harmless. Dealing with him could wait. Spy had to be dragged, thrashing and kicking all the way, from the bedroom. He kicked and scraped along the ground, but was unable to break the grip of around his wrist until he was released into the basement. Spy fell down the first few steps before catching himself and lunging for the door that slammed in his face. He couldn't hurt his captor with force from behind the reinforced door, but he wasn't going to let the man escape unscathed.

"Open the door!" Spy demanded. "Say to my face that you're executing the only man who could want you!"

Engineer locked the basement door, rather than bothering with the cell this time. He had too much to do, he needed to update the Administrator and tell her what location their enemy was tracked to, and what their enemy learned. But the shouting distracted him, Spy's words held him in place again when he knew he needed to go. He slammed his fist against the door to silence him. But he didn’t deny it.

Spy jumped back as the gunslinger pounded on the door. But it didn't subdue him. He wanted the man to open the door again. He had a better chance fighting against a man than a bolted dungeon door. "When you kill me, don't let yourself think that our relationship could have worked!" Spy seethed. "You could only have me if you forced me to be here!"

Engineer flinched at his words but forced himself to go. He got in his truck and left, headed towards the Administrator’s office to update her on the situation.

The Classic team knew she was coming, knew what her plans were, knew that everything Spy had known was now known by her. She no longer had the advantage of surprise.

The Classic Spy had fucked that up for them... Really, Engineer had fucked that up. He couldn’t be sure where things went wrong. He had a spy locked in the basement, long past his execution date. A Spy that hated him, and would kill him slowly if given the chance. A spy he didn’t want to kill. A spy with a name, René Bordeaux. 


	26. Execution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in two parts, and we've got one more chapter afterwards to wrap it all up.

_ "Can this be what our situation is now?" Spy tried to look distracted and pretend he wasn't hanging on Engineer's words. "No more of the basement. No more cruel punishments... I'll be your pet and you will take care of me... I’ll behave myself for you." _

_ They both knew it was a stretch to suggest it. The Engineer was a sadist at heart. The more passionate his attraction became, the more painful it would be to endure. But the Spy loved it, in his own way, being desired so extremely, that the rules of social conduct fell away. Spy's face was growing warm and he turned his back on Engineer to avoid letting his blush be seen as he suggested the title, pet. _

_ “You’d want that? To stay here, with me?” Engineer couldn’t believe it. It was one thing to fantasize and secretly entertain his own narrative about what their relationship was, or could be. It was another thing entirely for someone else to offer it to him, unprompted, wanting the forbidden things he never dared to pursue. _

_ Spy hesitated, turning only enough to see the other from the corner of his eye. "I’d like it…” _

  
  


*

  
  


The Administrator made Engineer wait this time. It was late at night, one could reasonably believe she needed time to make herself presentable. But this was probably a sign of her temper. The door audibly unlocked when she was ready for him. She was thinner than last time they met, like bones wrapped in paper, smoking a cigarette with a deep frown. "Conagher. I received a call from the Classic Team. I’m sure you know what it was pertaining. It seems we have lost the element of surprise." She sneered.

"Ma'am, I have their exact location for you, and I can continue to track the Classic Spy's watch, but... I apologize. I took too much of a risk." He should have just cut Spy off the second he got the Classic team's coordinates. There was no need to listen to what his spy wanted to say. He couldn’t let any of it conflict with the assignment.

The Administrator relaxed a little to know that. It might not be enough for an advantage, but it was a start. "You did," she agreed. "But you have everything you can get from the prisoner now, I expect."

"Yes." He could do nothing but agree. He didn't need any more information from Spy. It wasn't quite the same as having everything he wanted from Spy, but that was no longer an option.

"Did you execute him?" She asked in a very dry, serious voice.

"Not yet. When I get back to the base..." He should have killed him before he left. It would have been easy. It would have made sense. He didn't want to.

She shook her head, "No. You'll stay here with me and show me the location you tracked for the Classic Team." The administrator gestured to the computers and invited Engineer to go there. "I already assigned a mercenary to destroy that location, and ensure your prisoner does not leave alive."

Engineer felt a rush of panic for Spy, and his mind was instantly racing. The Spy had his communication watch, but it was useless now with the kill switch he installed. And even if he could contact him to warn him of what was coming, he left the man naked and unarmed, locked in a basement. There was nothing he could do but accept René’s fate, as he had at the beginning, before things were complicated.

He took a deep breath and turned to the computers, to his new assignment. Now he didn't have to kill the spy, and he tried to look at it like a relief. The assignment was over, and he could collect his things and leave for home once he was done here.

Together, Engineer and the administrator worked to catalogue the classic team’s location. It was apparent that the contact had the Classic Spy very excited, and he was running frantic errands to cover his team in preparation of any immediate move the Administrator decided to make. Their work together was interrupted by a phone call, and again, the Administrator directed Engineer to wait. The Administrator’s thin, spidery fingers swept over the keys of her communicator. She accepted the incoming call. 

Before she could say anything, a very distinct voice erupted on the other side. “WOOOOOHOOOHOOHOOOOO! Ahh ahaaha! Et wen up like ahn air beig oot a tae devil’s arse! Aw, ya shoulta seen it!” It would have been unintelligible for anyone unused to the Demoman’s Scottish brogue.

“Is the job complete, Mr. DeGroot?” The Administrator asked simply.

“Ya no listenin’ ta mae? Yer hoose is no more! Put a coople ah bangers aroond, n it blew tae fuck up!” He answered back with an enthusiastic laugh. 

“Mr. DeGroot, this is a very serious matter. Tell me, is the contract complete?” She demanded. 

“Ah ken! Am oot ‘ere, sweatin ma bawbag, wiffy pile o’ rubble, tellin’ ya, am doon!” The Scottsman shouted back.

“Are you done! Yes or no!” She demanded very impatiently now.

“YEES! Ah blew yer place oop, n ah foond yer DEED SPY!” The Scottsman answered. As soon as he understood Demo's words, Engineer felt sick. The last terrible things Spy had said played over again in his head and he shook it slightly as though to get the memory out. 

The Administrator seemed satisfied but repeated to be sure, “The Spy is dead?” 

“Yees! Oooooh, n’ nekkid as a wee bairn!” 

The communication shut off once the Administrator decided she heard enough. She waved Engineer off, “I won’t need to worry about any other information getting out now, hmm? You’re dismissed.”

"I did have several things at that base," Engineer said, but the annoyance he wanted to come through didn't quite reach his voice. He tried to mask the strange coldness that filled him up with his comment, but he wasn't sure if it worked. He felt very far away. He didn't hear the Administrator's response. 

He went out to his truck and began to drive back to the small house where Spy lay dead, out of habit more than intention. Partway there he changed his mind, or rather came to his senses. It was only rubble and a corpse waiting for him there. No point in going there. No point at all. He'd drive back to the Conagher ranch instead. He hadn’t been home in almost a decade, but no one else had been either. He could be alone there. 

He drove silently through the night, numb and sleepless. He heard Spy's last few remarks again and again as he drove. “_ You’re executing the only man who could ever want you! _” Spy really was the only one who could have wanted him, the real side of him he only showed to men about to die. He was the only one twisted enough to want what Engineer really had to offer, and it was only because Engineer had broken him first. He grimly reminded himself that Spy must have been forced into everything they had done. None of it was genuine. 

The thought led to more terrible introspection. He’d never dated seriously. Even when he ventured beyond a night or two of casual sex, the moment a man started to get a sense of who he really was, he left. No one wanted to be wanted by a sadist. He was filled with self-loathing and he tried to stay away from those thoughts, but he could hear Spy’s voice as he yelled through the basement door. _ "Don't fool yourself into thinking this could have worked." _ He turned on the radio in an attempt to drown it out. 

It didn't work.

*

Engineer drove the distance, straight through without stopping. When he reached the Connagher Ranch, he tried to adjust to the way life had been before TFI, before Spy, before all of this mess. It wasn’t an easy change. He’d thought if he could slip back into old routines he could forget the sense of longing that lived in him now, but over a decade working at Teufort made difficult habits to break.

He found his thoughts drifting to _ him _ in everything he did. He dreamt about Spy whether he was sleeping or awake. He made himself food and tried not to miss Spy’s cooking. Sometimes he expected to hear Spy crawling behind him, to wake up beside him, to be able to reach down beside himself and put his palm on top of that soft black and silver hair that would be getting long enough to trim by now.

It was unbearable. He turned on the radio and tried to never sit still long enough to let his mind wander. While he was setting up his work bench in the garage he found himself hooking up a monitor to keep watch over his pet while he worked.

He looked down at the cords in his hands then up at the monitor that betrayed how his subconscious thoughts were as full of longing as his conscious thoughts. After a moment of consideration, he took the kill switch from his gunslinger and turned it over in his fingertips.

The kill switch had a secondary function as a tracker. It reported the distance between itself and the receiver in the spy watch as part of it’s primary function, to control power to the receiver if it exited the approved distance. It wasn't the same as having the spy on a security camera, but maybe it would be better than nothing.

He made a display port and hooked up the tracker to the screen then turned to get back to work, trying to find a task that could keep his attention. He never intended to look very closely at the monitor. The knowledge that something was displayed on the screen did lessen the loneliness. He didn’t need to look at the number to know where Spy’s body had been left in the Mexican desert.

But when he did happen to look, the displayed range was surprising. The kill switch receiver in the watch was 500 miles away, although Dell was sure the base in Los Lamentos was more than 600 miles away.

After letting himself hope for a miracle, against all logic, he told himself that the Demoman had simply grabbed Spy’s watch off his body, or what remained of it, to use it in some project. Or maybe keep it himself, if it was in good enough shape. Demo would not be the first mercenary to keep souveniers of his kills.

He didn’t think he could stand to hear Demo’s voice drunkenly telling the story of this last assignment- to blow up the bunker with a spy inside it. 

It was awful, but he tried to bury the logic and let himself imagine that it was Spy, prowling out there like a stray black cat on his last of nine lives. After all, he’d never seen Spy’s body to confirm the kill for himself. He’d never gone back to that place, and he was sure the man had jokingly mentioned having one or two lives left in him.

He prided himself on being a logical man, someone who wasn’t ruled by emotion. But he certainly didn’t feel that way now, as he pulled a chair closer to sit down and watch the screen. He felt stupid for letting himself sit there, watching nothing more than a ghost on the screen. It was a damn fool thing to do and he hated himself for it.

He knew he was deluding himself, thinking Spy might be out there, alive. He’d been deluding himself the entire time he was with Spy, why should that change now? He’d fooled himself into thinking that he was just doing his job. Fooled himself into thinking that Spy was anything more than a prisoner. Fooled himself into thinking that Spy might stay with him if he wasn’t forced, that anyone could want that kind of torture. Fooled himself into thinking Spy was his. 

He left the monitor, but he couldn’t help looking back to it often. When he went to bed, he was eager to check in the morning. Sometimes the tracker would not move at all, neither closer or further away for a full day. Sometimes he could watch the miles tick down knowing someone was speeding down those long dusty highways that stretched through the desert.

When the range dipped under 100 miles he couldn't stop himself from getting out a map of Texas and spreading it out on his table. He had been fairly certain that the spy, or at the very least, the watch, was traveling in Texas when the range was less than 400 miles. But 100 miles was in range of familiar roads.

His thick finger traced along the veins sprawling across the map, following them and measuring the distance to the ranch in his mind. Whoever had the watch was traveling along the 10. He could drive to the highway in a matter of hours and intercept the path. Even if he just made it to the highway in time to see a Team Fortress car speeding by, he would know if it was the demoman, or if it wasn’t.

He could confirm it now. He could finally get closure. He could find out who had the watch. If it was Demo, he could leave and know that Spy was dead, finally, really dead. It would be closure, in its own way.

He pulled a smaller monitor out of a box of junk parts and started to build a smaller display. It would allow him to follow the tracker in a very primitive way, so long as he could predict what roads his target was traveling. He got in his truck immediately, with the mobile monitor and map on the seat beside him.

  
  


### Part 2: Escape

Spy threw his fists and his shoulders against the sturdy door. It wriggled, but only because of the hard pounding Engineer delivered with his gunslinger when he was trapped on the wrong side.

It didn’t take the captured spy very long to know there was no way for him to escape.

He cursed angrily at the door, and at himself, and at the Engineer, wherever he was now. But truly, mostly, he cursed himself for being naive. He felt like a fool now, for believing that Engineer captured him for revenge, and that he kept him here out of a weakness for carnal desires.

It was only so easy to see now, how Engineer plucked his nerves like the strings of his guitar to play the tune of whatever secrets he liked. There was no denying that the Engineer was the dangerous enemy his mentor warned him of. It only made the humiliation worse to know he betrayed his mentor and shared his intelligence to the very person he was warned to avoid.

Spy let himself down the steps into the open room of the basement to search for any other routes to escape. He knew that a dungeon would not have many ways to leave it, but he would be a fool to wait by a locked door without checking for another escape.

After thoroughly analysing the cellar and even spying through the Engineer’s toolbox of torture for anything of use, he gave up on freeing himself from the dungeon.

Spy sat down on the top steps and put his back against the locked door to flick open, and shut, his straight edge razor. The same one that Engineer used to shave his cheeks and neck down here in the basement.

He heard the front door of the house creak open, and Spy stood up to face the locked door. There weren’t any more sounds, not the heavy footsteps of Engineer’s work boots hoped to hear.

Spy slammed the door again and demanded, “Open this door!” To his surprise, the switch unlocked and the door opened.

His BLU counterpart stood in the doorway, his shadow stretching down the stairs and swallowing everything. The image of him: smiling wickedly, smoking a cigarette, and pointing a gun at the prisoner’s head, caused the RED spy to take a cautious step down. “_Alors, te voilà_,” The BLU purred upon finding his rival. He taunted him with his tone, greeting his enemy like a very close friend. “_Je pensais que tu serais seul_.”

Spy did not know how the BLU Spy expected to find him alone. But his mind was completely on Engineer, and if his captor betrayed him again by abandoning his pet to his oldest enemy. “_Avez vous parlé avec L’Engineer_?”

“_Non_.” The BLU Spy answered, he did not speak to the Engineer. But he did elaborate what he knew. “_J’ai entendu que cet bâtiment sera bientôt remplie d’explosifs. L'Administrateur commande que cet bâtiment doit être détruit avant que tu t'échappes_.”

Spy recognised the severity of the situation if the Administrator ordered the demolishment of the building, to be sure that he was dead. Spy never did learn what made some mercenaries so expendable to the Administrator, but he regretted whatever made him a disposable pawn in her plan.

“_Il y a ne personne pour te protéger_.” The BLU taunted the prisoner again, pointing out that there was no one to protect him now. But Spy was not the broken down and submissive man that his counterpart discovered last time. He was not cowering under the strength of Engineer; forced to hold his position on his knees and wonder whether it was more painful to suffer his enemy’s mockery, or invoke his keeper’s punishment. 

“_Je veux de remettre les pendules à l’heure avant que Demo arrive_.” The BLU Spy wanted more than to mock his counterpart. As far as he was concerned, or either man for that matter, there was a matter that wouldn’t be settled until the other was dead. He took a step closer and gestured with his gun for the prisoner to retreat down the steps.

Spy kept his footing and let the distance between them close. “_Oui, on y va._” Spy’s wrist flicked to the side and showed the brilliantly shining, razor sharp straight edge that folded in his palm. 

For most fighters, using a knife against a gun was foolish, but spies were at their most dangerous with a sharp blade in close range. The BLU Spy gasped in shock and scrambled to take aim with his gun, “_Comment as-tu_-” the rest of his question was stopped as the prisoner cut the backs of his legs with the straight-edge razor. The gun fired into open air uselessly, then his gun hand was forced up and over his head as he fell back through the doorway. The razor made a final cut through his neck and the prisoner spy watched as his enemy succumbed.

Spy spun the straight edge in his fingers and snapped it shut in his palm, purring, “_Au revoir, mon pire ennemi._” The prisoner did not wait for the BLU to die, or for the blood to stain his suit, before he started to divest him and clothe himself.

It felt good to be fully dressed again, and he was glad to loot a fresh arsenal of weapons from the other’s body. But he kept his own watch. Spy went to the garage and knew he did not have much time, if a Demoman was ordered to demolish the building.

He had a list in his mind of everything he wanted to collect before he left this place. He left with his suitcase, much heavier now than when he arrived, and threw it in the back of a sleek Blue Monte Carlo left outside by his would-be-assassin. He was long gone before the Demoman’s truck ever turned down the dusty road.  
  
The newly-freed man sped down unpaved roads fast enough to fly, as fast as he needed to be to keep up with his racing mind. All of the world was open to him now, but for once, he had no plan, or destination.

*

Spy took a long time to reach as far as Texas. Sometimes he was planning to go back to Europe and simply consider himself retired. Sometimes he planned only as far as the east coast. And sometimes he stopped on the side of the road, unable to do anything but smoke a cigarette and let hours tick by. 

He had betrayed his mentor and knew he would be shot on sight if he attempted to join the ranks of the Classic Team now. And he had been betrayed by the Engineer, who he now understood had never truly wanted him for anything but his secret intelligence.

The neon light of a luxury hotel on the American border pulled him in like any of the Texas-sized moths lured to the nearest source of light.

He reserved a beautiful room for himself, with an incredible view and wonderful service. All of it was paid for with a secret cache of money the BLU Spy hid in a secret compartment of the car.

The spy was sure that if he could go back to his way of life before the Engineer, everything else would fall back into place. But he wasn't sure where to begin when it came to undoing the Spy-breaker's work. He had been broken down into someone soft and vulnerable and built back up to revel in the commands he was given.

He stepped into his luxury suite and looked out the window to the Oasis of tropical trees arranged around a tepid pool, but he only felt empty and alone. He tried to let it brew into anger and make him dangerous, it only made him sad.

He turned away from the window and picked up a menu listing anything he could order for his room. His eyes moved down the list without wanting anything.

The food was hardly worth eating, if he must eat it alone. A personal massage service in his room was no luxury if he didn't earn the warmth of physical affection who made him go beyond his limits to get it. The best wine on the menu could not compare to the stale coffee Engineer granted him after putting a collar on him and training him to crawl.

He made a bath for himself and poured the richest smelling soap into the jet stream, filling the tub with bubbles as the room filled with fragrant steam. But it was hardly a luxury. It was as mundane and easy as any of the thousands of baths he had before.

Spy left the bath to go to the mirror and undress, as much as he could. He was sure the BLU spy had a lock picking set that could remove the lock on his collar. But he had not found it yet. He wasn't looking very hard.

He stared at his mostly naked, collared, self in the mirror. It was not the man he saw in the mirror for most of his life, and yet, he recognised this man so intimately, with pierced nipples, curly dark hair with grey streaks and a cigarette burn on his arm.

"What am I going to do with you?" Spy sighed pitifully at his reflection. He stroked the outline of his face in the mirror until he came to the reflection of his collar. The padlock weighed heavily still and it weighed his heart down further. It was a terrible reminder of Engineer's cruel game. Spy couldn't deny it now. He loved what Engineer did to him. "I was supposed to love it, no?" He asked his reflection as he wondered if that was the master plan of the fearsome spy-breaker. To make him love something so unusual and strange he would never realise it was the most simple trick in espionage, to sleep with the enemy and let them gladly share their knowledge.

"It's not foolish to miss it a little bit… if it was all perfectly engineered for me to love it." Spy reasoned. But he knew he could never return. He escaped by luck. If Engineer ever found him, it would be to kill him, Spy was certain. And yet, Spy wouldn't get rid of the watch Engineer had modified. Spy didn’t feel as if he escaped an executioner. He felt as if he’d lost a lover.

His fingers dipped down to the bar through his nipple. His chest held the marks of two men he loved... Spy's hand dropped down and he turned off the bath faucet and returned to the main room of his hotel suite. He took a thin blanket and folded it into the form of a limp bed pad, and he placed it on the floor. The freed man turned off the lights before he put himself to bed, and he let himself imagine that he was only aching and angry at the confines of his cell, and waiting for the Engineer to come and open his door.

The morning light would remind Spy that he was free, and it was up to him to decide where he went next.

Spy didn’t let his thoughts linger on the Engineer when he decided on passing through Texas. The state was massive, and if he tried to go around the entirety of the state he feared he would never make it to the other side of this unruly country. The straightest path to the East coast already required days of driving in the Texas desert.

The simple vastness of the state found Spy in the heart of Texas, in a town near the highway, waiting for a mechanic to finish making improvements to his car. He sat in a dusty little diner, the best dressed man there except for a poorly matching scarf wrapped a few times around his neck. His corner of the diner was a little foggier than the rest from the string of cigarettes he went through already.

Spy glanced briefly at every person who came through the door. The distance to the highway invited many different types. There were families, there were locals, there were drivers from throughout the country, there were sheriffs and law enforcement, and some wild game hunters also. 

Although Engineer’s Southern demeanor blended well with his kin, Spy saw him before he entered the door. He bristled like an angry cat, and turned a little in his bar seat to face the man. He knew it was no coincidence for the Conagher to come through here now. 

Spy wasn’t sure if he was resentful that they met in public, knowing he could not react the way he wanted to. He didn’t want to draw attention to them, right now he didn’t want to be anything more than an anonymous drifter as he stumbled through place to place. But in a way, he was grateful for this public location. If Engineer came to drag him away, either to a dungeon, or to a field to execute him, these witnesses might stop him. 

If they were alone and Engineer simply snapped his fingers and pointed to the door, Spy could not promise himself that he would not get onto the floor and crawl. The Frenchman let the Engineer approach with a silent but very heavy stare. He refused to show any weakness now, and he certainly would not show how grateful he was to see the familiar face one last time.

Spy chewed at the cigarette between his lips. He knew it was dangerous that he kept his own altered spy-watch. He knew he was basically inviting this man to find him again. He could have disappeared completely, if he had wanted to. But he couldn’t help leaving a life line, wondering if Engineer would ever try to follow it back to him.

As soon as Engineer saw Spy, their eyes locked. He was alive. Now he was completely adrift. As many fantasies as he'd had about this moment, none of them made sense and he had no idea what he wanted to say, or do. Feeling strange and numb, he sat next to Spy at the bar. He looked only at the bar, not sure he could meet Spy's eyes again. He felt absolutely stunned. 

"René," he greeted, though he'd never used his name before and it felt strange. 

Spy greeted him just as formally, "Conagher," not having the younger man's first name yet. If he had it, he would use it. Something as simple as hearing his own given name from his previous captor and lover was flirtatious and romantic, and also deeply insulting as Spy considered exactly how he learned it. 

Spy tapped his cigarette over an ashtray filled with his brand. He smelled very strongly of smoke, and nicotine. One could assume he was enjoying all of the cigarettes he missed while he was in captivity. But Engineer could not miss how the end of every cigarette was nearly chewed through with anxious energy.

"I wasn't sure you'd made it out," was all that the Texan managed to say. He tried not to stare, or try to see past the scarf. He was sure that it was arranged to hide the collar he locked around René’s neck.

"Nine lives." Spy commented. His cat tattoo suited him well in times like this. The Administrator was sure he died, the demoman was sure he had killed him, but here he was, sitting in a little diner hundreds of miles away, perfectly unscathed. "Disappointed?" Spy raised a brow. "Or maybe you are relieved that you can still kill me yourself, Connagher."

"No," Engineer said, nearly cutting off Spy's last word. "No." It was weird to hear Spy call him by his last name. He was half expecting a 'sir'. He was still almost in a trance, feeling completely disconnected from reality. He still wondered what the hell was he doing here, and what he wanted out of this conversation. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to apologize, or to tell Spy he wanted him back. He didn’t expect any of this, he had just wanted to make sure Spy was real, was _ alive _.

"It's Dell," he said.

Engineer introduced himself and Spy didn't know how to react. If this was an attempt at a fresh start, he was immediately opposed. There was no way to pretend they did not have history, as if Spy didn't know this man intimately and have a piercing that marked his ownership! Spy started to turn towards the Engineer, reaching for his knife in his coat. 

"Ya'll want some coffee?" The waitress at the bar offered the Texan. Although she didn't pay much attention at all to Spy, she lit up looking at Engineer's honest face, strong shoulders, working man’s hands, and short blonde hair. 

Spy sunk back into his own seat and removed his hand from the knife. He didn't know why these Southern people were so enamored with their fellow Texan. Of course, Spy was also. But Spy's attraction wasn't a simple crush noticed in passing. Spy suffered through starvation, humiliation, and pain to realise his attraction to this man. He couldn't help but resent the common people who immediately put their trust in the Southern ‘gentleman’, adoring him without knowing him at all.

Dell struggled even to use his usual effortless charm, he barely looked at the waitress, just nodding. 

Spy waited for the coffee to pour and after the waitress left, he stated, "I don't have any information to give you. I have no more contact with any of our colleagues."

"That ain't why I'm here. I saw you were close and I had to see." He paused, clearly struggling with words. "I had to see if it was really you." 

Engineer finally knew what he wanted to say, maybe _ needed _ to say, but it was twisted and he wasn't sure he had the words for it. He wanted to tell Spy that the last things he'd said to him, through the basement door, were inarguably true, and he knew it. "You were right," he started. "What you said to me, last." He couldn't bring himself to repeat it, as many times as he'd heard it in his head, it wasn't something he could say aloud.

Spy was too surprised by the statement to respond. He didn't remember immediately what his parting words were. But he couldn't believe Engineer was suddenly so humble. The man seemed to be almost apologetic. 

Spy pushed down the impulse to immediately pardon the man. He was angry and preferred to rake him over the coals a little first. He couldn’t physically attack the man here and expect to win, but he could cut him deeper with his words if he wanted to make sure his previous captor was suffering as much as the freed prisoner.

"_ Oui _. I know." Spy stubbed out a cigarette that was nearly chewed through. He took out another and said around pinched lips, "You were more cruel than you needed to be... Making me desire you was never necessary for your mission. You didn't need to make me want you, but you did."

Spy wasn't even sure if it was fair to blame Engineer for that. Sometimes he doubted that Engineer ever intended to become intimate with him, or so personal and vulnerable. But he wanted to blame Engineer for that. It was easier to believe he was caught by a master of interrogation and torture than to believe he unwittingly fell into adoration for a man who shared his feelings and then turned on him.

Engineer laughed softly with a bit of pain. "At least I wasn't the only one tangled up in wanting each other," he said quietly. "I didn't have to do that, but I wanted to. I wanted you to want me." It was a vulnerable statement. He wanted to be wanted. Knowing how weak he was for acceptance gave Spy a little piece of power over him, he felt. "I guess we both wanted to believe in something that couldn’t happen. You wanted to believe I wasn't using you, and I wanted to believe you were willing." As he said it, it really sunk in. 

Spy's hand shook a little as he lit his cigarette. Everything Engineer was saying was vulnerable and raw. It was the most exposed he saw this man, ever. The Frenchman bit into his cigarette hard and wouldn't let himself reply that he _ had _ been a willing partner. Under Engineer’s control, he craved to be bent over and fucked. He goaded Engineer to flex his strength and threaten punishment, simply for the thrill of that danger. 

Spy swallowed down the urges to make his own confessions. If he let that out, he didn't know what else would come out. "What is it that you are here for? You want me to follow you behind the building to suck your cock and swear how much I want you?" He spoke quietly enough to not be heard, but very bluntly only to make it clear how absurd the suggestion was. 

Engineer laughed again, putting a hand over his face. He felt as though if he didn't laugh he'd be crying. The intoxicating fantasy that he floated in for weeks was over. His pet hated him and his vicious words poisoned even the sweetest memories of their time together with doubt. It was an odd, overwhelming feeling. "I don't know what I wanted. I just had to know if you were alive or dead. We have unfinished business..." He turned a little to look at Spy with more sincerity. "I'm not sorry I interrogated you, or whooped your ass. But I am sorry for... the rest of it." He wasn't sure how to put into words exactly what needed to be said.

He was sorry for everything that made this interrogation so unlike the rest. He made Spy like it. He fucked Spy. He tried to keep him, as his own personal pet. All of those things were bad, but he wasn't sure what was the worst for Spy.

Ironically, for a man that made his career betraying the trust of others, the worst of it for Spy was the betrayal. But teams and loyalty were trivial, betrayal in combat was an expected inconvenience. Convincing him that he was wanted, only to show him he was a prisoner, it was heartbreaking. But, now Engineer was apologising for all of it.

Spy finished Engineer's statement for him, "For letting me think I was yours." Spy filled the air with ribbons of smoke and let the bitter flavour replace the bitter words on his tongue.

"For thinking I could keep you," Engineer said. It wasn't quite agreeing with him. They'd deluded both each other and themselves into thinking they could be more than captive and captor. 

Engineer stood, suddenly. He had closure, and every word that passed between them robbed him of the fleeting memories of what they had. He knew he needed to get out of there. He hadn't even taken a sip of his coffee but he put down some money for it on the counter, and then put the kill switch from the gunslinger down on the counter.

He was stuck on what to say. 'Goodbye' didn't really seem right. He reached out carefully and touched Spy's shoulder instead. When René did not flinch away he squeezed gently. Without a word, he left the diner and returned to the Conagher ranch alone.

The monitor he used to see Spy's movement would not tell him anything now. But, he told himself, he wasn't going to need that anymore.


	27. Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the last piece of this fic is up! We hope you all enjoyed it.
> 
> *
> 
> 50 shades of RED will continue in the sequel, 50 Shades Redder this summer.
> 
> René is presumed dead and Engineer is interested in getting out of the business. But more importantly, they are ready to explore their relationship outside of the colours of their team and their previous roles as prisoner and Spy-breaker.
> 
> Check for updates on Tumblr, and/or Pillow fort!

The large, open house was painfully quiet. It was big enough to hold all of the memories from his childhood. If he let his eyes wander aimlessly over dusty bookshelves, lace doilies, and floral curtains, he could almost hear his mother hanging laundry in the yard, or his father rebuilding an engine in the garage. If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell René’s cooking coming from the kitchen.

Engineer walked past the garage, intentionally refusing to look at the screen he used to track the distance to Spy’s watch. The next time he sat down to work in the garage he would need to accept that he was well and truly alone now.

He went to the family room and turned on the dusty old television. It didn’t matter what was on, anything would be equally uninteresting and equally distracting. It would pass the time. He picked up the television remote, specially designed and engineered by himself years ago, for television ease and convenience, and rested it on his knee. But at some point he opened the remote up, dissecting it and rebuilding it, for the sake of a better distraction.

The family phone in the kitchen suddenly rattled on its hook, breaking the dull noise of the television with its ringing. He looked up to the television to be sure it wasn’t that, at first. The Conagher family was private and people didn’t call for friendly conversation, especially since his mother passed away. In fact, most people who contacted them called the phone in the basement, which exclusively pertained to the family business.

Nonetheless, someone was calling the family phone now. The shrill bell filled the house and was impossible to ignore.

Engineer put down his work, wiped his hands off on his overalls and headed to the kitchen to answer the phone. He had no idea who it would be, but he expected a family member checking up on him. "Hello, Conagher Residence..."

“Dell? Is that you, boy? It’s me, Lou!” an old man greeted in a friendly tone on the other side. Lou was the barkeep in town, old enough to know Dell’s father in his drinking days, and even Radigan Conagher after his retirement. He hadn’t had cause to call the Conagher farm in a decade, but now that Dell Conagher was back home, and the people of Bee Cave had seen him in town, he was happy to be able to be useful again.

Dell never needed to know the man very well to be on first-name terms, the town was small and everyone knew everyone. “Howdy, Lou. How’s it in town?” His father sometimes referred to the old bartender as ‘the unofficial first line of Conagher Ranch defense’ and laughed every time at the joke. 

A long time ago, Radigan trained Lou, and some other people in town, to beware of ‘suspicious types’ and to telephone him; and Lou simply never stopped. “Look, boy, there’s a city man here. Neat suit, shiny watch, fancy accent. Just him drinking some whiskey right now, but he says he’s on his way to your ranch.”

Engineer frowned. That could only be Spy. His Spy.

There was a moment of silence and it could be heard how the old man leaned way back to peer around a wall to keep an eye on the city man before ducking away to continue the call. Lou wasn’t discreet, but he was never told what kind of ‘visitor’ he was preparing the Conaghers for. “You want me to get the boys and keep him here for ya?”

"No, Lou, thanks for the warning, but I'll handle this one." Engineer’s heart pounded hard.

Lou chuckled, “All right son, you keep an eye out for a blue Monte Carlo coming your way.”

The mysterious city man in a neat slim suit paid for his drink and left with unbreakable focus on his plan.

The strong whiskey burning down Spy’s throat was a welcomed small distraction from everything that waited down the road. He tried to rehearse his actions in his mind, or plan what he wanted to say to Engineer. But every time he imagined what he would do, or say, it played out differently. 

He pressed his foot down onto the pedal and raced along the dirt road faster. He was not one to drag his feet, no matter what future he was racing towards. The BLU Spy’s stolen car closed the distance between the little town centre of Bee Cave, and the Conagher Ranch very quickly. The ranch looked exactly as the photo his mentor once showed him to warn him of this place. Oil rigs in the distance pumped lazily into the earth. Longhorn cows grazed in the wild grass. The ranch house itself was a joining of family wealth and modest countryside living. And apparently, Spy was expected. 

The gate at the end of the property was open. Engineer was waiting for him too, in front of the house. He wasn't sure what Spy's intentions were, but he knew he had to face them. He had thought to bring a gun, to bring anything out other than his gunslinger, but he hadn't. Maybe this was something he had to face by himself, even if it ended badly for him. It felt like he couldn't get rid of a ghost, living alone and expecting Spy to be there. Even if Spy was here to kill him, it felt like a relief. 

The car slid to a stop on the gravel pathway with a large plume of dust that floated away over the field with all the other dirt the car brought up. Spy exited the car looking a lot more like the man he was before Engineer first captured him. He was fully clothed, of course, with a well tailored shirt, and slim slacks. He took off his sunglasses with a gloved hand and tossed them in the car. 

The tall and elegant man walked to Engineer without taking his eyes off of him. He plucked the cigarette from between his lips and tossed it onto the dirt and released one last breath full of smoke. Then he lowered himself to his knees at Engineer’s feet and looked up at him. On his knees, Engineer could see the little scars on his nose and temple that indicated he was without his cloak, almost naked, in his own way. 

But more importantly, the sturdy leather collar that Engineer put on him was still fastened tightly around Spy’s neck, visible where Spy’s shirt collar was loose and unbuttoned, his tie undone. 

“I’m ready, sir.” 

Those were only three, simple, short words, but they said everything. They spoke Spy’s confidence to face the pain and torment that comes with Engineer’s attention. They spoke Spy’s readiness to go forward and embrace whatever was coming without regret. But most loudly and clearly and importantly for Engineer, they spoke Spy’s decision to consensually put himself fully in Engineer’s hands. To submit to the man fully as a symbol of respect, reverence, and adoration.

*

Epilogue

Spy was bound tightly to a sturdy post. Ropes bit tightly into his arms and legs, and gave him no room to squirm at all. Engineer expected correctly that Spy would not keep himself still and was sure that the ropes managed Spy's self control for him.

Spy could only move his head, shaking it hard and nearly screaming through the gag made of rope. Engineer wasn't touching him yet, but Spy could feel the pain just imagining it. Spy rest his head against the post and breathed a few calming breaths. He met Engineer's eyes again and nodded, welcoming him.

Engineer felt no hesitation, no mercy for his captive. Spy’s nod only confirmed be was ready. He looked down at a twisted length of metal wire heating under the blue flames of a blowtorch. The metal was red hot by the time it was ready. Engineer turned off the blowtorch and before the metal could cool, he pressed it hard to the side of Spy’s hip. The brand sizzled against his skin immediately, and Engineer took it away after only a single long second. 

Spy's muscles became hard under the rope and he screamed through the pain. It only lasted for a full second. Yet to Spy it felt like forever. When it was done, he was filled with relief. 

Engineer's mark of ownership was burned into Spy's skin. Spy didn't intend to let people see this soft part of skin, between his stomach and hip, where he was hairless and white. But when Engineer's hands held his hips, his flesh and blood hand would touch it. Spy sagged in the ropes, although the tight binding didn't allow him to move at all, only his head hung. And the result was a perfect brand, and an owned Spy waiting patiently for aftercare.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations: You certainly notice by now that there are no direct translations guides. This is for three reasons:  
1\. I think the context makes the meaning apparent.  
2\. I don't know what is so easy it is an insult to translate it, and what is necessary.  
3\. I don't like to translate. :( It is hard and never seems accurate.
> 
> But if we have monolingual readers who require a translation, let me know. I will do my best.


End file.
